Forbidden Choice
by JKBrimera
Summary: What happens when the Ministry implements a new law stating that all witches and wizards over the age of fourteen must be matched? Apparently, plenty more drama than the students of Hogwarts have ever seen before. Rated T for mild swearing
1. The Nightmare Begins

_Author's Note_**: **Hi everyone! No, sadly the notification you just received does not mean that I've come out with a new chapter. I'm sorry to disappoint, but **I'm releasing this story yet again** with some **(major) edits**. You see, I originally wrote this story when I was twelve, which as you might guess means that it was truly terrible. However, I'm grateful to those who left kind comments. It's you that have inspired me to make this story better!

_Disclaimer: _I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it. Any recognizable characters, settings, plot devices, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling. This disclaimer will encompass the whole of this story.

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

_"If we don't change, we don't grow. If we don't grow, we aren't really living." - Gail Sheehy_

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><p>Ginny Weasley twirled around expectantly in front of her dorm mirror, buttoning and then unbuttoning the clasps her of her cloak. She frowned as she pulled at a strand of red hair with distaste. The copper had lost some of its shine since the summer, and it reminded her more of the crackling leaves of autumn. There was a <em>thud <em>as Hermione Granger set down her Charms book.

"Really, Ginny." Her voice was a mixture of reproach and exasperated amusement. "You've looked the same for sixteen years, now. You ought to be used to it."

"I know."

"You look fine."

"Do I?" Ginny scowled at her reflection, poking experimentally at a freckle. Her gaze strayed to her wand, and she wondered vaguely if she trusted herself not to end up with purple hair or, perhaps, no hair at all. "I could always do it up in a knot or something."

Hermione gave a tired sigh. "I still don't understand what the big deal is."

Ginny spun around. Hermione lay sprawled out on her bed, her frizzy curls escaping two long braids. She was fanning herself with a bit of spare parchment and looked entirely uninterested in what was happening. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"How have you missed the reminders?"

"About the big announcement?" Hermione hardly glanced up. "Dumbledore's making it at the feast tonight, I know."

Ginny had the sudden urge to take her friend's book and knock her over the head with it. For how clever Hermione was, she could sometimes be a little daft. "Hermione, what do announcements mean?"

"Er." The other witch looked stuck. "Information?"

"Balls." Ginny jumped on her friend's bed, curling her legs beneath her. Hermione looked affronted, but didn't say anything. She poked her in the shoulder. "Dumbledore only makes announcements when we're going to have a ball."

Hermione frowned. "Yes, but-"

"And what do you need for a ball?"

"Robes?"

Her voice rose at the end uncertainly. Ginny pinched the bridge of her nose. Hermione's brain was hardwired for reasoning, and it was bloody frustrating. Ginny closed Hermione's book so that her friend was forced to look at her.

"Boys." She couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice. "A ball has to do with dates, and dates have to do with boys, and- oh, bloody hell. I forgot to do that shine charm."

Leaping off the bed, Ginny tucked the Charms book beneath her arm and hurried to the mirror. She began to leaf through the pages at a rapid pace, only stopping when she saw the words _hair, beauty, _or _shine_. Hermione bit her lip.

"Well," she said, "it doesn't matter. I'll probably just end up going with-"

"Ron." Hermione flushed a furious red, and Ginny grinned. "I'm ecstatic for the both of you, really, but I need someone to ask me. Tonight, if it's any time soon."

A triumphant crow escaped her as Ginny found the right page. She pulled her wand hastily from her pocket. The charm turned her hair a silky red, and it glistened when she turned. Ginny grinned. It was a complex charm, and half the enjoyment came from knowing that she had been the one to do it. Hermione gave her a thumbs-up before checking her watch.

"Gin?" Her face paled. "We need to go, right now."

Ginny swore. "How long until it starts?"

"Five minutes ago."

They exchanged a look. With a flick of her wand, Ginny summoned their trainers from beneath their beds as Hermione scrambled to find their ties. Luckily, their other two dorm mates, Lavendar and Pavarti, were notorious for tidying, and it only took a few moments before the ties were procured.

Pushing open the portrait hall, the two of them sprinted down to the Great Hall. Masses of students were already enjoying their dinner. Thick potato soup and heavy bread lined the table, accompanied by roasted turkey and the occasional jug of pumpkin juice. Ron waved energetically at the pair of them, as if Ginny might not have seen him with his flaming red hair.

"There they are," Hermione said, and there was relief in her voice.

Ginny trailed her to the table, taking a seat beside Harry. He and Ron were engaged in a heated discussion about an upcoming quidditch match. Across from her, Hermione pulled a face, and Ginny coughed to keep from laughing.

"The Chudley Cannons will take it," Ron was saying, his mouth stuffed full of bread. "S'no way they can lose wi' their keeper."

Harry reclined in his seat. He looked amused by his friend's antics, and Ginny wondered if half the reason he was arguing was to watch Ron spew food across the table. "The Cannons might have a stellar keeper, but the Harpies' seeker will catch the snitch within the first two minutes. It'll be over before anyone has a chance to score."

Ginny pushed her long, red hair behind her and leaned forward conspiratorially. "I personally have five Galleons on a win for the Irish."

Both boys set down their forks with identical expressions of outrage. Hermione smothered a laugh with a well-placed choking fit, and Ginny feigned interest in her turkey. Ron looked like he was about to respond heatedly when he was interrupted.

"Evening, children."

Two voices spoke in unison, although they were so similar in pattern that it was difficult to tell. Fred and George plopped themselves into nearby seats, helping themselves to piles of potatoes. Fred wiggled his eyebrows.

"What's on tonight's discussion plate?"

Ron's response was quickly cut off by a grunt of pain. It took Ginny a moment to realize that Hermione had kicked him under the table. A rush of pride filled her, and she grinned. Hermione looked relieved to have avoided another conversation about quidditch.

"We were just talking about the big announcement, actually. Any ideas on what it will be?"

George shrugged. In true Weasley style, his mouth was filled with potatoes, but at least he had the good grace to swallow before speaking. "Not too sure, of course, but there has been many a rumor flying around about a certain Cup returning to Hogwarts."

"The Triwizard Tournament?" Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Not seriously."

He shrugged. "Nothing's been proven, little sister."

To her right, Ginny felt Harry stiffen. His knuckles had drained of blood where he held the knife, and there was a pulse jumping at his throat. It wasn't hard for her to guess what he was thinking of: the last championship before the war, the summer before Voldemort had been defeated.

"You think there'll be another tournament?" he asked.

Fred looked thoughtful. "Not necessarily. That's not all that the Cup can be used for."

George grinned impishly. "Oh no, don't rule out the cup yet."

"You might just find-"

"-that the cup may be-"

"-put to use after all!"

Fred winked. In unison, he and George stood and left the table with smug expressions. Though neither spoke, they both took seats beside Lee Jordan. Hermione studied the pair with a thoughtful expression. She absently spooned potatoes on to her plate.

"Do you suppose they could be telling the truth?"

Ron snorted. "Better to ignore them. The owl scat they put in Snape's bed last week has affected their brains."

Harry looked impressed. "That was them?"

Ron nodded gravely. "I've never seen Snape so livid before. I swear that-"

Hermione placed a finger over her lips, cutting him off. Up at the staff table, Dumbledore had stood, and the hall immediately quieted. Heads swiveled from all directions. The Headmaster wasn't smiling. Ginny felt a chill go down her spine, and she was about to whisper to Hermione when Dumbledore spoke.

"Students." Dumbledore greeted them with a small inclination of his head. "Professors, friends, and colleagues. As you all are by now aware, there is an announcement to be made tonight."

There was the clatter of a spoon striking the ground, and all of the students jumped, unnerved. A sheepish Hufflepuff grabbed the utensil off the floor. A couple nervous giggles chased each other around the hall, but the Headmaster's expression didn't change.

"It will not come as a surprise to most of you that since the war, house unity has become, for lack of better words, unheard of at best."

Waves of shock rippled through the crowd, accompanied by a few murmurs. People rarely mentioned the war in present times. But Dumbledore merely went on with his speech, his even expression giving nothing away. Somehow, that only made his next words more frightening.

"It seems that students have given up on making the effort to live in harmony with the other houses. The Ministry feels that all of you have given up on second-chances, and that will lead to war."

Here, the Headmaster paused to look at all of them. Ginny felt a squirm of discomfort register somewhere in the pit of her stomach. If he was implying that she should start chatting up the Slytherins, he might as well have tried to convince a sheep to befriend a lion. Judging by their expressions, many of the other students were thinking along similar lines. Dumbledore continued.

"The Ministry wishes me to inform you of a new law that will come into place in response to these concerns: the inter-unity law."

Small whispers broke out, racing like wildfire around the hall. Each student wanted to make sure that he or she was not the only one lost. Ginny frowned, and the other three adopted similar expressions of confusion. Dumbledore raised a hand, and the hall instantly fell silent once more.

"The law reads as follows."

He snapped his fingers, and a scroll appeared from thin air. The Headmaster unraveled it, but there was something reluctant and weary in his movements. Ginny sat up a little straighter. Dumbledore peered through his half-moon glasses.

"All witches and wizards over the age of fourteen and enrolled in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are hereby subject to the inter-unity law. The aforementioned law states that, in order to encourage unity and eventual reproduction between different houses, the Triwizard Goblet will pair various students with other students of a high-level compatibility to their own. These matches will take place over the course of a week, though the union will be in place for life. These students will be expected to complete various courses and other such things in the hopes of an eventual marriage. Thank-you for your understanding and cooperation. Signed Corenelius Fudge, Minister of Magic."

Ginny's throat closed. Horror reared its ugly head, and she felt the sudden urge to vomit. There was no way that she was cooperating with someone so bloody thickheaded as Fudge. She sneaked a look at the other three, whose faces were twisted into masks of disbelief. Hermione looked ready to cry.

"Punishment for disobeying this law," Dumbledore said, "is Azkaban."

The silence was deafening. Every student was at a loss for words. Ginny could hear her own heart pounding in her ears, and her mouth felt dry. Professor McGonagall stood, and the scraping of her chair sounded like a gunshot in the silence. Ginny would have covered her ears if she could remember how to move.

"Your parents have yet to be informed. We thought it best-" She broke off, clearing her throat, then tried again. "It would be best if you informed them yourselves."

Her lips were pinched into a thin line as she took her seat once more. Dumbledore raised a silencing hand once more, although this time it was unnecessary, because no one looked ready to speak.

"If you would all be so kind as to miss dessert this evening, I think a good sleep is in order. Lessons will proceed as usual tomorrow."

"Do not believe that you can trick the cup this time around."

It was Snape that had spoken. He appeared to be the only one unruffled by the announcement, and like some giant bat, he rose from the table, his black cloak falling around him. His mouth was crooked in a half-smile.

"I've brewed a complex potion that none of your incompetent minds may begin to fathom. Beards will not be your only problem this time."

He turned his hooked gaze on the Fred and George. The twins glared at him but made no sound, as seemingly mute as the rest of the students. Dumbledore took this as his cue and stood, addressing the crowd.

"Please drop your names in the cup outside the hall as you exit. The pairing will begin tomorrow."

Then, with blatant disregard for any sort of formality, the Headmaster disapparated from the hall with a loud _crack_. Five hundred students gaped in minute horror at the spot that he had vanished from. Slowly, Blaise Zabini stood, his hand trembling.

"Those bloody Ministry _cretins_!"

At the last word, the fork in his hand snapped cleanly in two. Beside him, Draco Malfoy dully pushed another fork towards him.

The noise started low, and then steadily grew until the hall was in an uproar. Students were cursing at the top of their lungs. A Gryffindor next to her was telling the Ministry where exactly they could stick their inter-unity law, and it involved a few choice words that Ginny had never heard before. She caught sight of Luna comforting a crying first-year, and she began to shove her way through the crowd when a red-faced Ron caught her shoulders.

"Who's going to write to Mum?"

Ginny blinked. "What?"

"Mum!" His voice was saturated with hysteria. "I can't be the one to do it! Ginny, you're the favorite, so you'll have to do it."

Ron's hands were digging into her shoulders, and she tried to squirm away, but her brother had a firm grip. "Ron, quit it. You're hurting me."

But he wasn't listening. "All of those expensive weddings and four in one go, I can't even imagine the hours that dad will have to work…"

The room was starting to spin as Ron kept talking, occasionally shaking her shoulders for emphasis. The walls were bending in on her uncomfortably. Her neck was hot. She could hear her own breath as if from a distance, uneven and labored. Ginny was vaguely aware of Harry jostling his way through the crowd.

"Ron!"

Her brother cut off halfway through his tirade. Harry was saying something, gesturing to her angrily, but she couldn't hear anything. Ron went pale. His fingers were uncertain on her shoulders. His mouth was moving but he, too, had become mute.

The spinning grew worse, and then Ginny was falling. Disjointed, she watched herself pitch forward, crumbling into her brother's arms amidst the screaming, panicked students. Harry slapped her a little on the cheeks. And then everything was black.


	2. Parvati

_Author's Note_: Wow! Thanks for all the amazing feedback. You guys are too sweet. I promise that we will see more of Draco soon! I won't lie; some of his character is based off the historical figure that I quote below.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

_"Courage isn't having the strength to go on - it's going on when you don't have the strength." - Napoleon Bonaparte_

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><p>Ginny woke to a splitting headache. Tiny nails were being driven into her scull and, grimacing, she fumbled for the water she kept on her beside table. Her fist connected with solid wood. She bit down on her other palm to keep from crying out. Cradling both injured hands, she tried again but was met with only air. Ginny withdrew with a frown, trying to remember why she hadn't filled her usual glass with water last night.<p>

It came flooding back to her with horrible clarity.

Crying out for real this time, Ginny sat bolt upright, managing to crack her head on the roof of her four-poster as she did so. She rubbed it gingerly. Closing her eyes, she played last evening over in her mind again: the announcement, the panic, Ron shaking her… someone must have carried her back, then. Hermione and Lavender, probably.

A scream split the air.

Ginny jumped and almost hit her head for the second time. The shriek was distinct, and from the pitch, she could tell that it was Parvati. Ginny sighed. Her dorm mate had a tendency to go mad over things like misplacing her favorite pair of trousers.

"Oi!" Ginny ripped open her curtains. "Do you mind, 'vati? I don't wake up until after-"

She cut off as she caught sight of the mess before her. Parvati lay in the middle of the room. Her ankle was raised in the air, and some invisible force was dragging her like a puppet towards the door. Her hands were bloody from grabbing scattered objects throughout the room: a trunk, a door, her copy of Witch Weekly. There were deep gouges in Ginny's four-poster where Parvati's nails had dug into the wood.

"Oh, my god."

Parvati's eyes were wide. "Help!"

Needing no more encouragement, Ginny leapt from the bed. She grabbed hold of a nearby bedsheet, thanking Merlin her brother Charlie had taught her how to tie knots strong enough to hold a young dragon. Snagging one of Parvati's ankles, she deftly bound her to the nearest bed, praying the invisible force wouldn't be strong enough to move the whole thing.

"What the hell is that?"

"Search me."

Ginny waited somewhat patiently as the other girl caught her breath. She slumped down beside her, curling her knees up to her chest.

"I just tied you to a bed."

"Kinky."

"This isn't funny." Ginny gave her a stern look. "Why did I need to tie you to a bed, Parvati?"

The dark-haired girl shrugged, but she was picking at the bed sheets. There was a tremble in her hands. Sighing, Ginny reached forward, looping her dorm mate's sweaty hair up into a ponytail.

"I can't say it." Parvati's voice was soft. "That would make it real."

"Try."

"I guess it's the law thing." She still wasn't looking at her, but Ginny could hear the dull submission in her friend's voice, and she frowned. "I've been one of the first to be matched. Lucky me, I guess."

"You can't seriously be fine with that."

"Of course I'm not." Parvati's head jerked up, and Ginny was relieved to see something spark in her eyes. Her friend sat up a little straighter, wiggling her cuffed hands until she was facing her. "Merlin, Gin. I just don't see what I can do about it."

"Well, you could-"

"Never untie myself?" Parvati laughed, but there was nothing warm in the sound. She shook her cuffed hands for emphasis. "This is it for us, now. This is the boy I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. I just thought that when I was saying those words, we would have gone out for a while beforehand."

There was something a little wistful in her voice, and it broke Ginny's heart more than if her friend had cried. She leaned back against the bed until their shoulders touched. Parvati put a leg over Ginny's, and the two sat in silence for a moment.

"You know," Ginny said, "I like surprises a lot more when they're Christmas presents."

"Merlin." Parvati's lips twitched. "I've never had a serious boyfriend before and now I'm going to be married. Think of what my mum will say."

Ginny had a sudden image of Parvati trying to choose a wedding dress and laughed aloud. With Parvati's four sisters, mum, and extended family packed full of cousins and aunts, it would take months. Even longer, if Lavender was there. Ginny was then hit with the idea of _Lavender _trying to choose a wedding dress and she burst into hysterics. Parvati looked at her in alarm.

"Keep it down, Ginny!" She glanced worriedly to where the other two girls were still fast asleep, their heads peeking out from the depths of their blankets. "Good Merlin, you're cheerful. Did someone slip you a cheering charm or something?"

Ginny shook her head. Tears were streaming down her face, and she wiped at them with her pajama sleeve. She struggled to get the words out.

"I… was just… picturing… Lavender trying to buy a wedding dress."

Parvati began to laugh as well, just a small giggle at first and then a whole medley of hoots and hollers. The whole situation was so ridiculous that Ginny laughed until her stomach hurt. Parvati was cackling.

"Quiet," she giggled. "We'll… wake… the others."

"Too late."

Hermione sat up, yawning. Her brown curls stuck up all over her head like a mane, and her cheeks were flushed red from sleep. She blinked a few times. Then, her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Parvati's hands tied to the bed.

"What in Merlin…"

Ginny's laughter died in her throat. Parvati had stilled, examining her hands as if she had just remembered that they were attached to her body. Hermione's look of confusion melted into one of understanding, and she looked at the dark-haired girl sympathetically.

"Already?"

"Somebody had to be first." Parvati shrugged. "I just thought that, you know, I would receive an owl or something. This whole swept-off-my-feet thing is a little too literal."

Her voice was light, but it shook a little near the end. Ginny gave her a shoulder a squeeze. Hermione was apparently oblivious to Parvati's conflict, because she continued to question the other girl.

"How long are you going to wait to find out?"

"Don't know yet." Parvati's gaze was still fixed on her cuffed hands. "Since we haven't had any boys fly into out bedroom yet, I'm assuming my match is also tied up. That should give me as much time as I need."

"I can take notes for you, if you'd like," Hermione offered, although whether it was because she felt sorry for Parvati or disapproved of anyone missing class, it was difficult to tell.

Ginny nudged her. "We'll support you either way."

Parvati sighed. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her long eyelashes cast shadows across her cheekbones. Ginny had always been jealous of how long her friend's eyelashes were; Parvati never needed to wear mascara or do any sort of enhancing spell. Today, Ginny was not jealous of her dorm mate at all.

"What should I do?" Parvati asked.

Ginny wasn't sure if she was asking them, herself, or some higher power. Hermione scrunched up her eyebrows as if she was considering an arithmacy problem. Ginny could already see her mind going a million miles an hour, calculating probabilities and chances and whether it was better to do it now or later.

"I suppose it's better to do it now," she said.

"I agree." Ginny cleared her throat. She hadn't realized that's what she thought until the words were out of her mouth, and she tried to make light of the serious words immediately. "I wouldn't want to miss breakfast today, either; it's waffles."

Parvati looked wistful. "I do love waffles."

"It's settled, then."

Ginny stood, rifling through her clothes. She pulled out clean jeans and robes from the top drawer. She tossed Parvati's wand at her. Her friend caught it easily and twirled it for emphasis. Ginny raised an eyebrow, and Parvati shrugged.

"Lavender taught me," she said by way of explanation. "It's become a habit now. And while I'm thinking about it, shouldn't someone be waking her by now?"

They all turned to look at the lump of covers that formed a small hump on the fourth bed. Somewhere beneath, Ginny could hear the faint sound of snoring. She smirked; it was the one thing that Lavender couldn't control, and it drove her a little nuts. Hermione assumed a guilty expression.

"We forgot to wake her! Here, I'll do it."

She crossed hastily to Lavender's bed, shaking her on the shoulder. The lump of covers groaned. Hermione pulled the sheets back, revealing a whack of blonde hair. She leaned close to their dorm mate's ear.

"Hey, sleepy head, it's morning."

Lavender swatted at her. "Five more minutes!"

"Lav?" Parvati's voice was tentative. "I've been matched."

It took two seconds for the information to register in the other girl's sleepy brain. When it did, Lavender sat bolt upright, her eyes popping open. Ginny reflected that she was lucky to be naturally short, or she would have hit her head on the roof of the four-poster like Ginny so frequently did. Lavender hopped out of bed, her hands on her hips.

"Who?"

Parvati gestured wryly to the bed-sheets. "I'm not sure yet."

"I can't believe it." Lavender began to pace, though her eyes never left Parvati's hands. "This is actually happening."

Ginny, who had already dressed and washed, offered her a sympathetic look as she ran a brush through her hair. The shine charm hadn't faded yet, and she was delighted to see that the copper had a golden sheen to it. She charmed it up into knot and jumped briskly to her feet.

"You'll believe it better with waffles." She tossed Lavender's robes and wand at her. Lavender caught both without looking and, to Ginny's chagrin, twirled the wand in the same way Parvati had. Ginny sighed. "Come on, slowpoke. We're going to be late for breakfast."

Lavender's eyes cut to Parvati. "But-"

"I'll come." Parvati smiled bravely, shifting in her bonds. "So long as you all come with me when I'm out of these things, that is. "

Hermione stuck her up pinkie finger. "Witch's promise."

The other three girls mirrored her gesture and murmured the words, and a flare of heat rippled between them. Ginny used her free hand to knot the laces of her trainers. Lavender was half-dancing as she dressed, bounding around Parvati like an excited puppy.

"Any guesses as to who it may be?"

Hermione straightened her robes. "Justin Finch-Fletchley, maybe."

"No way!" Ginny pulled a face. "He has a horribly large nose. Not that it matters really, so long as you don't end up with a Slytherin. Can you imagine being matched with Malfoy or Zabini?"

She shuddered, and Hermione and Parvati followed suit. Lavender, however, had stopped her bouncing in favor of taking up residence on Ginny's bed. She was hanging off upside down, and her sly smile went the wrong way.

"I don't know. Malfoy is actually quite fanciable."

The reaction was immediate: Ginny made a retching noise, and Parvati mimed gagging. Hermione looked so shocked that she held a trainer halfway to her foot, her hand hovering in midair. Lavender giggled at their expressions.

"Relax, that doesn't mean that I suddenly want to marry him. Besides, we never asked Parvati if there was anyone _she_ wants to marry."

All eyes snapped to Parvati, who blushed.

"Well?" Hermione looked curious. "There isn't, is there?"

Parvati's cheeks were painfully red. "Not exactly."

But she might as well have said that she had been exchanging love notes, because her denial was all that Ginny needed to tell that she was lying. Lavender let out a crow of surprise, and Hermione studied Pavarti carefully. It was Ginny's turn to dance around the room, waving her hands around. Her voice was a singsong.

"Parvati fancies someone!"

Her friend colored further. "It's stupid, really. He doesn't fancy me."

"Oi!" Lavender's look was full of disapproval. "You don't know that. You should have told me earlier, and I could have set you up."

She sounded slightly hurt, and Ginny didn't blame her. Lavender was the go-to witch at Hogwarts if you wanted advice on boys. She had inhaled every copy of Witch Weekly and committed each article to heart with feverish determination. Luckily, Ginny had never had the need to ask her roommate for boy advice, and she certainly hoped it would stay that way. Parvati smiled.

"But where is the fun in that?"

"It hardly matters now." Hermione finished tying her trainers with a tug. "It's almost breakfast, and I think that it's time to cut Parvati loose."

"What? No! I've changed my mind, I'm staying here."

The other girl looked appropriately alarmed. Her hands shot out to grip the bed post, holding her chains as if they were life preservers. Her eyes were darting from place to place like a caged rabbit. Hermione knelt, and when she spoke, her voice was soft.

"You are not, and you know it."

"I'm staying."

Hermione shook her head. "Should I cut the bonds, or do you want to?"

Pavarti looked like she was going to argue for a moment, and then she sighed. Weakly, she held out her hands. Hermione raised an eyebrow before removing her wand. She held it over Pavarti's trembling wrists like an orchestra conductor. Then, with deliberate clarity, she spoke.

"_Diffendo_."

There was a sound as the bed sheets ripped in two. Ginny tried not to wince. The house elves would not be happy. Parvati was thrust forwards into the air, and she hit the door with a _smack_. It was knocked open, and then Parvati flew through the common room.

Ginny leapt after her, taking the stairs two at a time. She realized immediately that she wasn't going to be able to keep up with Parvati. Though she was one of the faster girls at Hogwarts, she would need a broom to keep pace with her friend. Parvati seemed to realize this at the same time that she did and gave her a brave smile before zooming through the portrait hole. Ginny paused to catch her breath. Hermione and Lavender appeared about fifteen seconds later, their faces red with exertion.

"What- happened?" Lavender demanded, panting. "Where's 'vati?"

"Too fast."

Ginny straightened slowly, wiping the sweat from her brow. She frowned in the direction that Parvati had vanished: towards the Slytherin and Ravenclaw common rooms. She opened her mouth to tell the other two, and then closed it again. No sense in worrying Lavender until they were certain.

"We'll see her at breakfast," Ginny reassured them.

The other two nodded, and they fell into step as they walked towards the Great Hall. There was no sign of Parvati on their way down, but many students sported things that looked like floating arrows above their heads. Each pointed at another nearby student with a matching one. Ginny saw one boy and girl shouting at each other in a language that only they seemed to be able to understand. Professors seemed to be trying to restrain the couple from cursing one another.

Ginny was relieved to see a few couples of the same house, which meant that the possibility wasn't entirely ruled out no matter what the inter-unity law stated. She caught sight of Luna at the Ravenclaw table and motioned for Hermione and Lavender to go on ahead. She made her way towards Luna and gave the blonde's ponytail a quick, affectionate tug.

"Ginny!" Luna had separated an orange into eight slices, and was eating each one in a counter-clockwise style. She scooted over so that Ginny could slide in, too. "How's your morning?"

Ginny launched into a quick recount of Parvati's matching. When she finished, Luna looked thoughtful.

"I thought I saw Parvati in our common room this morning. I can't be sure, of course," she added, looking slightly alarmed by Ginny's expression, "but I think that it was someone from her year."

Ginny couldn't help it: she squealed. It was completely undignified and obnoxious, but she didn't care. Parvati hadn't been matched with a Slytherin. Ginny clapped her hands together, ignoring Luna's look of wary uncertainty.

"I can't believe it. I'm so excited for her."

"Yes," Luna said wryly, "I got that part, thanks."

Ginny ignored her friend's barb, helping herself to some orange slice. "What about you, Lu? You haven't been matched yet, have you? I mean, you're not sporting one of those arrows."

She drew a circle in the air above her head like a halo. Luna frowned.

"I haven't been," she said, "but I don't think you need an arrow to be matched. You said that Parvati didn't have one, right?"

Ginny was momentarily taken aback. "No, she didn't."

Luna gave her a very Ravenclaw look over the orange slices. Biting her lip, Ginny rose from the table. She gave Luna a squeeze on the shoulder before returning to the Gryffindor table. She took a seat across from Neville, who was picking at his waffle moodily. His eyes were red and tired. Ginny noted the neon red arrow wheeling above his head with dawning dread.

"Neville?" She leaned forward. "Are you alright?"

"No." He sounded like he had a bad head cold. "No, I'm not."

Ginny wanted to hug the boy. She had never seen him this lifeless before, not even when he was attacked by pixies in his second year, and it terrified her a little. Her eyes swept the hall automatically for another red arrow, but there were too many to tell who Neville's match might be. Neville's elbow rested in his syrup, but he seemed too preoccupied to notice.

"Merlin, Neville," she said, producing a cloth. Ginny dabbed at his elbow fruitlessly. "She must just be dreadful. Who is it?"

It came out much more demanding than she had intended. Neville shook his head wordlessly, staring blankly at the stain slowly spreading across his sleeve. Then, almost imperceptibly, he tipped his head towards the Slytherin table, where an equally distraught Pansy Parkinson was pushing around some eggs. Ginny felt her stomach drop.

"You can't be serious." When Neville said nothing, she made a noise of sympathy. "I'm sorry, Neville, that's absolutely rotten."

She could feel the heat of Pansy's glare on the back of her neck, although who it was intended for, it was difficult to say. Neville sat up a little straighter. His words were directed to Ginny, although his eyes were fixed on Pansy.

"It's fine, really," he said. "It was just… unexpected."

Ginny patted his hand sympathetically. Her mother had always been better at sympathizing with her brothers, and she had always felt more akin to her father: better at discussing trivial things like spark plugs and hammers. Any sort of deep conversation felt awkward and personal. Still, she tried desperately for comfort, and Neville seemed to appreciate her gesture all the same.

"At least know you know," she told him.

Neville offered her something like a smile. "Have you found out yet?"

Ginny shook her head. Her eyes immediately scanned the hall, as if a boy might have a huge sign with her name on it. That would certainly make things a lot easier. She began to pile eggs and waffles onto her own plate in the hopes of encouraging Neville to eat.

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not," she said. "A part of me doesn't like to delay the inevitable. And Parvati seemed alright with it in the end."

To her relief, Neville took a hesitant bite of waffle. "Who'd she get?"

"No idea." Ginny shook her head, absently cutting up her waffles. "I think everyone finds out differently who they're matched with. Parvati flew down the stairs and through the corridor before I could catch her."

Ginny almost smiled at the expression on Neville's face, but he said nothing. Instead, he gestured to the arrow spinning above his head, waving his hand like a lasso.

"I seem to have a more common one."

Ginny mimicked a siren above her own head. Neville stuck out his tongue.

"Gin!"

Lavender was sprinting full speed to where Ginny sat, tripping slightly in her heels. There was a look of panicked excitement in her eyes that Ginny hadn't seen since the last ball was announced. She whipped around so quickly that her neck kinked in the process.

"What?"

Lavender was grinning ear to ear. "Look who's just arrived."

Hastily, Ginny followed Lavender's gaze to the double doors. Entering into the hall was Pavarti, holding hands with Michael Corner. Her face was aglow, and any doubts Ginny had as to who Pavarti fancied vanished.

"That's fantastic!"

Ginny stood to wave at the couple over the crowd of packed students. Parvati waved back enthusiastically with her free hand, and her grin was blinding. Michael smiled as well. Ginny watched as he kissed Parvati on the cheek; she whispered something in his ear before moving in the direction of the Gryffindor table. Ginny and Lavender fell on her as soon as she was within hearing range.

"Michael Corner?" Lavender squealed. She was dancing up and down on her toes, as if she might explode. "You're matched with Michael Corner?"

Parvati beamed. "It's not too odd, is it?"

Ginny flipped her long hair behind her, and then hugged her friend tightly. Parvati looked surprised for a moment before relaxing, and Ginny squeezed her until she thought she might crush her ribs. "It's wonderful, 'vati. I'm glad something good has come out of this mess and, judging by her reaction, Lavender feels the same way."

Lavender stopped her wild dance. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion, but she had the good grace to look embarrassed. Parvati couldn't seem to stop smiling.

"I'm just so happy." She dropped into Ginny's abandoned seat beside Neville. Her hand spooned eggs onto her plate. Ginny watched, half-amused and half-concerned as her friend dazedly poured syrup all over them. "I never thought – I never wanted to hope that it could work out like this."

Ginny reached for the juice. "I'm happy for you, too. You must be relieved that you didn't end up with a Slytherin."

Neville stiffened. Too late, Ginny realized her mistake, and she froze. Neville saw her expression and waved an impatient hand, but the jump in his throat didn't fade.

"It's fine," he said. "I'm over it."

Parvati frowned. "Over what?"

"Pansy Parkinson." Neville gestured to his arrow. "Found out last night."

Parvati's elated expression morphed into one of intense sympathy. "She might not be so bad. Who knows? Plenty of Slytherins have changed since the war."

Ginny clamped her mouth shut, biting off a flippant retort that _of course_ Pansy hadn't changed; no Slytherins had. But Parvati was only trying to be encouraging and so, for Neville's sake, Ginny kept quiet. The round-faced boy looked hopeful.

"Do you think?"

Parvati nodded. "I know."


	3. Match Me If You Can

_Author's Note: _Hi everyone! Thanks for all the reviews. For those wondering, Ginny is almost fifteen in this story. I would have made her older, but I wanted to include Fred and George so I needed to keep to the Canon timeline! Feel free to imagine her as older if you'd like.

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

_"We are all failures. At least, the best of us are." - J.M. Barrie_

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><p>The rest of the day passed without much incident.<p>

Ginny had been surprised to learn that Seamus Finnegan and Alicia Spinnet had been the couple she had seen yelling in the hall. Unfortunately, neither was still able to speak English, and both were promptly excused from classes. Arrows became a common though alarming occurrence throughout Hogwarts; Ginny had seen Colin Creevy nearly fall out of a window in Divination when one appeared above his head. Ernie Macmillan had suddenly flown out of the Potions classroom just before noon, knocking over Professor Snape in the process. The professor had not been pleased.

"Ginny? Are you still breathing?"

Hermioned waved a hand in front of her face. Ginny blinked, startled. The two girls sat in the Gryffindor common room, tucked away in a corner with piles of books and parchment between them. Parvati was speaking animatedly with Lavender by the fire, and Harry and Ron were playing exploding snap on the wooden table.

"I'm alright." Ginny shut her Care of Magical Creatures book with a yawn. "I can't believe they're still allowed to give us essays with everything that's going on."

Hermione didn't look sorry in the least. "School is still school."

"You're only saying that because Charlie didn't give you any homework."

Hermione shrugged, but didn't say anything. Ginny would be having words with her brother later. A sudden crow of delighted laughter caught her attention, and she turned to look at Fred and Angelina. The pair was engaged in a rowdy match of chess, and there were peals of laughter whenever the other had to speak. Apparently, they had found out that they were matched in the afternoon when neither of them could speak without singing. Like Alicia and Seamus, the ability had yet to fade.

Hermione followed her gaze. "They're good together, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Ginny said, "they really are."

Her brother had a genuine smile that she rarely saw unless he was with George, and the thought made her relieved. Hermione wore a wistful expression and, with a pang of guilt, Ginny realized that she had never asked her friend how she was feeling about the entire law.

"You haven't found your match yet, have you, 'mione?"

"No." She shook her brown curls ruefully. "I do hope it comes soon, though. Exams are drawing close and I can't afford to be worrying about other things."

Ginny almost smiled. Leave it to Hermione to worry about things like exams during possibly the most stressful week of their lives. With a sigh, Hermione pushed her essay aside as well, resting her chin on her hand.

"What about you?"

Ginny bit her lip. "Not so much as a clue. I thought maybe Dean for a moment this morning, but no luck. It's too bad: he's one of the better ones, isn't he?"

As if sensing her words, Dean caught her eye from across the common room. He was bedecked in what looked like a top hat and a monocle. Seamus was checking a spell book intently as he conjured what looked like a thick mustache on his friend. Dean grinned at her. With a wave of his wand, he produced a bouquet of flowers and tossed them to her.

"For you, gentle lady."

Ginny laughed. "Thank-you, kind sir."

Hermione looked thoughtful as the boys went back to their practice. "I see what you mean. I suppose they're saving the best for last, though; I know that all the girls are thrilled that Harry's still on the market."

She was peering at Ginny very intently, and Ginny smiled inwardly to herself. With the help of Luna and a string of Muggle boys at the village this summer, she had finally shaken off her fancy of Harry for good. The boy was like a brother to her now, perhaps even more so than Ron at times. It would be odd to be matched with him now: still, better Harry than a Slytherin.

"Yes, I've heard the same," she said offhandedly. "It won't matter though, will it? The cup's going to choose one way or the other. There's nothing really left to be done."

Hermione fixed Ginny with a disapproving look that reminded the redhead of Professor McGonagall. "That's no way to talk, Gin. It's as if we've had our whole lives decided for us already."

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, we have, haven't we?"

Hermione looked like she was going to protest before thinking better of it. The older girl leaned back in her chair, her fingers twisting in to the fabric of her skirt as she thought. Ginny stood up wearily.

"I'm giving up," she announced, shoving her books into a bag. "I need sleep, and I can always ask Charlie for help on the report later."

Hermione waved a hand. "You can always ask me, too."

Ginny smiled. "I always do."

She ruffled Ron's hair on her way to the stairs, eliciting an indignant noise from her brother. Fred sung a cheerful goodnight, which was accompanied by a giggle from Angelina. Harry nodded, his attention stolen by a sudden explosion of his cards. Satisfied, Ginny turned towards her dorm and the sleep that awaited her.

* * *

><p>"Seriously, what is it?"<p>

Ginny peered at her brother's shoulder. Ron had what looked like an oddly shaped purple splotch on his upper arm, stretching into three prongs like a crown. It might have been a birthmark, but Ginny knew that it wasn't. She had seen her brother naked more often than she would have liked. Ginny leaned back against the large Beech they sat under, allowing Hermione to frown at the mark.

"Have you been fighting, Ron?"

He made a spluttering sound. "No!"

"Are you sure?" Hermione looked dubious. "It looks like a curse mark."

"I haven't been fighting!"

"More likely a Nargle," Luna agreed sagely.

Harry, who had been watching the entire exchange with amusement, leaned back against the tree. He slapped Ron on the back. "Course it wasn't a fight, mate. You haven't been in one since you lost to Mrs. Norris."

"I didn't lose!" Ron colored. "I keep saying that it was a draw-"

He was cut off by the sudden sound of laughter. Ginny looked to where Angelina and Fred sat nearby, sprawled out on the grass. They were describing the shapes of clouds in singsong voices, although Fred was admiring Angelina more than he was the sky. Ginny hid a smile.

"Are you cold?" Ron asked.

Ginny opened her mouth to tell him that she was fine, but his words weren't directed to her. Her brother was looking at Hermione in concern. The other girl had the beginning of goose bumps on her arms, which were wrapped around herself. Her cheeks were red, although whether from cold or Ron's words, Ginny couldn't have said.

"I'm fine."

"You should have taken that jumper Lavender offered you," Ginny chided.

Hermione gave her a look that could have melted the ice caps. Ignoring her, Ginny crossed her legs and settled back against the beech once more. The sun had taken to peeking through the clouds whenever it fancied, making for unpredictable weather. Her gaze wandered to where students crowded around the lake. A few dipped their toes in experimentally, and others were huddled together for warmth. On the other side, she could just make out two shapes that must have been Parvati and Michael, taking their regular afternoon stroll.

"Oi." Harry's voice was incredulous. "Is that _Neville_?"

Ginny reluctantly opened her eyes, following his gaze, and she felt her jaw drop. Neville sat under a nearby grove of trees, a book propped open on his knees. He was eating an apple as he turned the pages. The most startling part was the girl sitting a few feet away from him: Pansy Parkinson.

"Bloody hell," Ron said. "What has the world come to?"

"I think it's sweet," Ginny said.

"Sweet?" Ron gave her a look as if she suggested that they eat slugs for lunch. "Parkinson's a Slytherin! That's traitorous."

"Gee," Hermione said, and she shot a look filled with disapproval at Ron. "I wonder why the Ministry felt the need to implement an inter-unity law."

But Ginny was only half-listening. Her eyes were still on Neville and Pansy; the pair did not give off an air of friendliness, but there was no hostility between them either, which was really equivalent to Ginny leaping from a broomstick and flying: not possible.

She watched as George and Katie made their way across the yard towards Fred and Angelina. George's shoulder occasionally brushed Katie's, and the girl made no move to pull away. With a flick of his wrist, George pitched a sandwich that smacked Fred in the chest. The latter sang a creative amount of curse words.

The arrow above Katie's head spun in circles as George ran from his twin.

"They seem happy, don't they?" Hermione asked.

Ginny nodded. "They're already a family, and it's only been a few days."

"The cup is making good decisions, then." Hermione leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows. Ginny noticed that Ron's eyes flicked towards her for a moment before refocusing on Harry. Hermione seemed oblivious. "Did you hear that Natalie Clearwater and Henry Finch-Fletchley were matched?"

That was no surprise; the two had been dating since practically first-year. Ginny couldn't picture Natalie with anyone else. She grinned. "All of Hogwarts saw that coming."

"Still." Hermione shrugged. "It's worth something."

Ginny nodded. "Even Neville and Pansy aren't so bad, really. At least they haven't strangled one another."

"_Yet_, Weasley."

The voice was cool and filled with thinly veiled amusement. Ginny jumped. Hermione had stiffened and, in unison, both girls grit their teeth. Draco Malfoy and a few of his friends leaned casually on the tree, looking down at them. Ginny inclined her head slowly.

"Malfoy."

At his name, both Harry and Ron's heads snapped up. Luna looked more curious than anything else. Ginny and Hermione were both already on their feet, and the boys both scrambled up, drawing wands from their pockets. Malfoy's voice was a theatric drawl, and she wondered how much of it was genuine and how much of it was for effect.

"None of the dream matched, then? No desirable qualities to pair?"

Harry took an automatic step forward. "You're not matched either, Malfoy."

"Been following me around then, Potter?"

The blond boy smirked, and raised one challenging eyebrow. The boys around him were vibrating with excitement, like eager hunting dogs waiting for the kill. Malfoy's voice was curt. Harry was already starting towards he castle.

"Sod off, Malfoy."

Ron and Hermione fell into step behind him. Her brother still had a firm grip on his wand, and his knuckles had gone white from squeezing the wood so tightly. Harry marched ahead like a general leading his soldiers into battle. Ginny would have laughed at his theatrics if Malfoy weren't watching her so intently.

"And what about you, Weaselette?" His voice was soft and languid, but there was a sharp edge to it, a knife hidden in cotton. "No husband willing to raise a small army of redheaded children?"

Ginny pursed her lips. "No one good enough for me yet, I suppose."

"More like no one willing to put up with you."

She stepped forward. "Listen, Malfoy-"

"Gin." Luna caught her arm. "We have class."

Her misty eyes were round like twin sickles. Ginny allowed herself to be tugged along by her sleeve, following the path that the other three had taken minutes ago. She chanced one last look at the blond boy behind her. Malfoy was watching her go with something odd in his eyes, and it made her shiver.

But it wasn't with horror; it was with anticipation.

* * *

><p>Ginny breathed a sigh of relief as she entered the Charms classroom. Her head was still spinning from Potions class with the Ravenclaws. There was a list of ingredients printed on the back of her eyelids, and while the order was simple enough, the actual potion itself was dead tricky. On top of it, Snape had taken delight in assigning them an essay that looked to be near impossible. Unless, of course, Ginny had been Hermione or Malfoy, both of which she wasn't.<p>

Needless to say, Ginny was pleased to be back where she belonged. Last year, Professor Flitwick had offered her a place in an advanced Charms class, where she could skip a year. Ginny had enthusiastically agreed and, although she'd never admit it out loud, sometimes she wondered if magic came this naturally to the others.

"Ginny!"

Lavender waved her over, and she slid in beside her three dorm mates. Flitwick waited somewhat patiently while she scurried to her seat before launching into his latest lesson. She saw, with some relief, that today's lesson was how to enchant a broom. Ginny had already covered that in the summer over a particularly boring weekend.

Up at the front, Flitwick demonstrated the wand work. There was a flash of gold, and then the broom hovered a few feet off the ground, looking ready to take off. "That, my dear children, is the proper method to enchant a broom. Tricky, yes. but simple once you have it."

To Ginny's amusement, both Harry and Malfoy perked up, paying rapt attention. They reminded her of two dogs are a bone, and she couldn't help but smirk. Ron was practically salivating.

"You should all have your practice brooms completed by next week," Flitwick instructed, his squeaky voice breathy with excitement. "You have today and tomorrow to practice in class. After that, please see the textbook for further instruction."

The rest of the class went exactly as Ginny expected it to: Ron and Harry seemed determined to master the spell before Malfoy, and Malfoy was doing his best to hinder the other two from learning it. Ginny pretended to struggle with the charm at first, adding spells to increase the difficulty as to not draw attention to herself. She was relieved to find that she made the same amount of progress as everyone else did.

"Well done everyone!" Flitwick clapped his hands together, jumping up on a stack of books so that he could beam at them all proudly. "I've never seen a class work so quickly before. That was truly-"

The professor stopped mid-sentence as his eyes landed on Dean. His eyes widened to saucers. Dean, who had not missed his reaction, took a hasty step away from his broom. He eyed it like it might explode at any moment.

"What is it, professor?"

"Mr. Thomas." Ginny swore that, if possible, Flitwick's voice had rose an octave. "You seem to have, er…"

Dean looked truly alarmed now. "I have what?"

But the professor shook his head, apparently at a loss for words. Ron leaned forward, thumping Dead on the back.

"Congratulations, mate! You've just been chosen."

Her brother gestured to where a spinning arrow pointed above Dean's head. The boy let out a shout, scrambling backwards as if he could escape it. When he reached up to swat it away, his hand passed straight through it. A sound of torment escaped him.

"Who is it?"

Dean was like a dog chasing its own tail, and he twisted and turned to see where the arrow was pointing. Ron glanced casually at where Millicent Bulstrode stood, looking like she had just swallowed two tons of Bubotuber pus. Dean looked horrified.

"You have got to be joking me."

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><p><strong>Please Review!<strong>


	4. Ron

_Author's Note: _Sorry for the late update guys! Hope you enjoy. Thanks for those that pointed out I was spelling Parvati's name incorrectly; I went back and tried to change as many of them as I could!

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

_"Life is a shipwreck, but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats." - Voltaire_

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><p>Word of Dean and Millicent's matching spread quickly though Hogwarts, each rumor running more rampant than the last. Ginny swore that she heard two eye-witnesses claim that Millicent was so mad that she broke both of Dean's arms, and now he was in hospital for a week. Another swore that Dean's estranged half-brother tricked the cup into pairing the two students as revenge for stealing their shared father.<p>

"Something on your mind, Gin?"

Luna had her chin propped on her hand, and her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and on to the table between them. Their textbooks lay open in a half-hearted attempt at studying. Luna's grey eyes were probing, and Ginny shifted uncomfortably beneath them.

"No."

Ginny tried to read her own small, cramped handwriting, but the letters swam off the page. Luna reached across the table to shut the notebook.

"Ginny Weasley, I know you much too well for that," she said.

Her gaze was a mixture of reproach and indignation. It reminded Ginny strangely of her owl when Ginny tried to trick her into eating the healthy pellets; her owl always knew that she was withholding the fattening, sweeter ones. Ginny buried her face in her hands, and her voice came out muffled.

"I don't know, Luna."

"Try," she said.

Ginny peeked through her fingers. "It's silly."

"I won't mind."

The redhead drew a breath. "Sometimes, I just feel as if I should have found my match already."

"Ginny." Luna's voice was stern. "Half of Hogwarts hasn't been matched yet, including me; don't worry about being alone."

She shook her head mutely. "It's not just that. I'm frightened that I _won_'_t _find my match; maybe there's something wrong with me. Maybe the cup is hesitant because I'm supposed to end up alone."

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it?"

"Yes," Luna said, and her voice was soft. "It is, because you are the most lovable person that I know. The problem isn't that there isn't a person for you, it's that there's too many who would be lucky to have you."

But Ginny wasn't done. "What if it's someone awful?"

"It won't be," she said firmly. "Look at your brothers and their matches; it worked out better than if they had planned it themselves."

Ginny dropped her hands with a sigh, Luna was watching her with a serene expression, her silver eyes filled with mist and dreams. She scooted her chair over, moving until she was beside Ginny. Her hand squeezed Ginny's shoulder.

"Hermione hasn't found someone," she said. "Neither has Harry, Lavender, or Ron. You really aren't alone. And I won't ever let you be alone."

"I know," Ginny said quietly. "Thank-you."

She managed a brave smile. Her hands were clamped on to the sides of her notebook like a lifeline, but she relaxed her grip was she breathed out. Blood rushed into her knuckles. Luna reached into her bag, pushing a square of chocolate towards Ginny. She ate it without hesitation.

"Now," Luna said, "you owe me for both the advice and the chocolate. I expect to collect in a week's time when I disintegrate into insanity."

Luna flipped open her textbook, and then began to read as if Ginny hadn't just turned into a mess and nothing had happened at all. Ginny felt a rush of affection for her friend. Hurriedly, she scarfed down the rest of the chocolate, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Madam Pince would have kittens if she saw her.

* * *

><p>"Ginny!"<p>

The redhead, who was already halfway down the grassy hill on the way to Herbology, spun around. Ron was hurrying down the slope towards her. His trainers skid on the slick turf, but he managed to stay upright. His face was flushed from running.

For a moment, Ginny felt her stomach drop. Her hand jumped to her pocket, searching for a wand, and she could already hear the screams. Next to her, Hannah Abbott laid a concerned hand on her arm, and Ginny forced herself to breathe. The war was over. There was no more screaming to be done.

"What?"

Ron was grinning from ear to ear. "He's done it."

"What are you on about?"

"Fred!" Ron was practically dancing with excitement. "He's done it!"

Her brother was bounding along side them, and they had nearly reached the greenhouses, now. Ginny turned to offer Hannah an apologetic look. She jerked her thumb towards the nearest greenhouse.

"You can go on ahead, if you'd like. I'll be right in."

Hannah pulled a face. "Are you mad? We're working with Snargluff plants today. I'm waiting outside until Professor Sprout drags me in by the ears."

"Suit yourself." Ginny shrugged. "But be warned: once Ron starts, it's impossible to make him stop."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "I've got a lot of brothers. Try me."

Ginny opened her mouth to say that they had a lot in common, but was cut off as Ron picked her up. Apparently unable to contain his excitement anymore, her brother swung her around. Ginny let out a shriek as her feet left her ground. Suddenly, the world was spinning and the clouds blurred into blue sky.

"Ronald!" She thumped him helplessly on the back. "Put me down!"

She was set down roughly on her feet, and Ginny stumbled backwards a little, nearly knocking over Hannah. She could feel red hair sticking up all over her head. Ron, who didn't look remotely injured by her assaults, didn't seem to notice in his excitement.

"I can't believe he didn't tell us, the little bugger!"

Ginny mentally counted to three. "Who's done what?"

"Fred!" Ron was vibrating with excitement, and there was a strange note of pride, disbelief, and confusion mixed into his voice. He shook his head. "Fred asked Angelina without telling any of us, except for maybe George."

Ginny stared at her brother for a moment. Ron's face was flushed, and his eyes glittered. What could Fred have asked Angelina that would have worked him into such a state? Well, it couldn't have been about quidditch, because-

It hit Ginny like a sack of bricks.

"_What_?"

"I know!"

"You don't mean that… Fred asked Angelina to _marry _him?"

"Last night," Ron confirmed. "Had a ring and everything. He and George snuck Katie and Angelina down to Hogsmede last night, and Fred asked her. In song, out of the blue. Well, I suppose it doesn't really count as song when he's stuck singing all day anyways, but you get the idea."

Ron's grin was infectious. Ginny's face ached from smiling, but she couldn't seem to get any words out, and she found herself utterly speechless as the news sunk in. Fred had asked Angelina to _marry _him; the two were going to have children that her mother could dote on, and a fancy wedding with a tall cake and bad music. Ginny threw herself at Ron, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I can't believe it! Ange is going to be one of the family!"

For the first time, she remembered that Hannah was here, too, and she turned to look at her friend excitedly. But Hannah had gone a pasty shade of white, matching the color of parchment. Her gaze was fixed on Ron's arms, where Ginny had jostled his robes to reveal a patch of skin. Ron hadn't missed her friend's strange expression, either.

"Hannah?"

He took a step towards her. Hannah let out something like a strangled gasp, falling back a few steps. She was staring at Ron as if she was seeing him for the first time. Her hands came up to ward him off.

"Don't come any closer."

Ron looked hurt. Ginny shot a look at her brother before hurrying to her friend's side. She laid a hand on her shoulder, but Hannah didn't seem to register it, and Ginny felt her eyebrows knit together.

"Hannah? Are you alright?"

Her friend's voice was a hiss. "What is that thing on Ron's shoulder?"

"Oh, that." Ginny let out a laugh, but it sounded like a deflated tire. "That would be the new birth mark that he grew overnight. It's a bit of a mystery, really. But it shouldn't bite you or anything, I promise."

Her explanation didn't have the effect she had been hoping for. Hannah paled even further. Shaking Ginny off, she retreated several more steps before fetching up against the greenhouse wall. Ginny frowned. For the first time, it occurred to her that most people wouldn't have been staring at something that looked like a birthmark; unless they knew Ron, they would have assumed that he'd always had it.

Unless they had known the mark was there.

Unless they had been looking for it.

"Hannah?" Ginny asked again, only this time, an edge of panic made her voice sound cutting. "What is it?"

Wordlessly, Hannah shrugged off her robe. She pulled off her own jumper, shivering in her t-shirt in the slight breeze. Her arms were pale and freckled. At the top of one, where arm met shoulder, there was a mark identical to Ron's.

Ginny whipped around. Ron was staring at the mark in astonishment. He seemed rooted to the ground, his tall frame frozen like some still from a muggle movie. Hannah swallowed.

She must have known that she was staring at her match.

* * *

><p>Soon, it felt like all of Hogwarts knew that Fred Weasley had proposed to Angelina Johnston. Rumors burned through the school like wildfire, and it was only when people began to speculate that the proposal had been due to Angelina's illicit baby with George that Ginny suggested a sleepover to clear everything up. The rumors never bothered Angelina or Fred, but she knew that they would bother her mother when heard the Hogwarts' gossip.<p>

The Gryffindor girls gathered for a massive sleepover in the common room. Purple sleeping bags were squashed into every nook and cranny, the heads of which were angled towards the middle where Angelina had taken up residence, ruling over the sleepover like a queen at court. The fireplace bathed her face in gold and red.

"Then Fred said to me – and I quote – 'Angelina, I'm not usually one to serenade a girl, but ever since you agreed to go out with me, that's all I've been able to do. I wouldn't change it for the world. I'm in love with you, and… oh, bother it all, will you marry me, Ange?"

The rendition of her engagement was met with a chorus of giggles and a few titters from the older girls. Each hung on every word that Angelina said. Ginny was feeling slightly nauseous at the prospect of one of her brother's being romantic, but she managed a smile.

Angelina grinned. "So then I said-"

There was a loud _bang_, and then the portrait hole flew open. Four figures clambered in, and Ginny could make out the red of George's hair. Her brother had a firm grip on Seamus' shoulders, and Katie Bell was tugging Alicia by the wrist towards the fire. Katie's cheeks were red, and there were several suspicious looking marks on her neck.

"Well." Angelina's eyebrows shot to her hairline. "Where were you, missy?"

Katie rolled her eyes. "Trying to stop Alicia and Seamus from killing one another. Actually, neither can speak English yet, but they were yelling loudly enough that I got the message."

Alicia had the good grace to look embarrassed. She shrugged her shoulders, eliciting more giggles from the girls. Katie released her wrist and took a place at Angelina's side. The chasers grinned at one another.

"I hear you're engaged, then."

"You missed my story." Angelina's lower lip jutted out. "This has been my best telling yet, you know. The first five were just for practice."

Katie nudged the other girl with her shoulder. "Dibs Maid of Honor."

"Obviously."

Angelina looked ready to launch back into her story with renewed fervor. Not looking forward to more details on her brother's methods of wooing women, Ginny cleared her throat, capturing the attention of the room. She figured the rumors had been cleared up enough for one night.

"Actually, we should go over who's been paired off."

"Brilliant." Lavender's eyes lit up. "We're three days in, now, so the selection should be cut in half of what it originally was. In four days, everyone will be matched."

Her words were met with fearful looks among the younger students, accompanied by a couple of excited whispers. Hermione, who sat in one of the cozy chairs near the fireplace, held up her hands. In true Hermione form, she began to tick off fingers, as if reciting a list of ingredients for a potion.

"Parvati and Michael, Katie and George, Angelina and Fred, Dean and Millicent, Alicia and Seamus, Susan Bones and Vincent Goyle, Henry-Finch Fletchly and Natalie Clearwater-"

"No surprise there," Ginny cut in.

Hermione didn't so much as blink. "Neville and Pansy-"

"_That_ was a surprise."

Several other girls murmured their agreement. There was a ripple of unease, and Ginny could tell that everyone was thinking the same thing: if it happened to Neville, it could happen to any of them. Each girl could be paired with a Slytherin, whether she liked it or not.

"That wasn't the oddest one, though." Parvati crossed her long legs in front of her. "What about Lee Jordan and that fourteen year old? Bugger, I can't remember her name."

"Yves Gardiner?" Ginny asked.

"Yes!" Parvati snapped her fingers. "That one; she's nearly four years younger than he is. What was the cup thinking?"

There was another contemplative silence, although the unease had lessened. Personally, Ginny would have rather been Yves Gardiner than Neville: she would take a ten-year age difference over a Slytherin any day.

"Oi!" Lavender poked Ginny in the side. "Weren't you saying that your brother was matched today? Ron and Hannah Abbott, right?"

Ginny could have smacked her friend. As it was, she buried her head in her hands, horrified. It wasn't supposed to be a secret, exactly, but she had told Lavender with the intention of keeping it quiet. She had wanted to give Ron enough time to tell Hermione, but judging by the other girl's stricken expression, he hadn't yet.

"What?" Hermione's face was aghast. "When did that happen?"

"This afternoon." Lavender was obliviously cheerful. "They're together now, aren't they, Gin? Not that they have any choice really…"

"Yeah." Ginny took her head out of her hands. She made sure to watch Hermione's expression out of the corner of her eye, choosing her words very carefully. "He asked her to that interunity ball that people keep talking about as a sign of good faith."

"Well." Angelina raised her voice dramatically. "That means that I'll be related to…"

Her words were met with a couple of groans from the crowd. They were undoubtedly imagining the length of that list. Angelina spoke with surprising speed and confidence, listing each Weasley sibling and their significant other as if she was reading from a Weasley family tree. It was only when she reached Ginny's name that she frowned.

"And you haven't been matched, have you Ginny?"

Everyone's eyes shot to her face, and she felt a telltale flush creep up her neck. Their eyes made her feel hot and uncomfortable. She was rarely pleased to be in spotlight, and her pale skin liked to show that. Luckily, Lavender came to her rescue.

"I'm tired," she complained, winking at Ginny. "If I'm going to be matched, I need my beauty rest. Who knows when it could happen?"

"Me too." Parvati settled back into her sleeping bag, using the crook of her elbow as a pillow. "I'm supposed to meet before breakfast with-"

"Michael!"

It was a unanimous shout, and Parvati flushed. Next to her friend, Alicia was searching fruitlessly for a pillow, and Ginny tossed one at her. Alicia gave her a silent thumbs-up before settling in next to Katie. The other girl gave her a stern look.

"You aren't allowed to sneak off and murder Seamus in the middle of the night, alright? Promise me."

Looking slightly sheepish, Alicia nodded. When Katie continued to glare, Alicia rolled her eyes, using her hands to cross her heart solemnly. Angelina gave both Katie and Ginny reprimanding looks.

"Neither of you are using tonight as an excuse to avoid quidditch practice tomorrow, alright? I will personally come and drag you kicking and screaming out of this castle."

"Yes, Captain," the two girls chorused.

Angelina smiled. "Alright. Good night, everyone."

Several other girls offered sleepy replies, their eyes already closing. Hermione gave a half-hearted wave from the couch. Ginny's mind was foggy, and somewhere in between adjusting her sleeping bag and saying good night, she fell asleep.

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><p><strong>Please review! <strong>I'd love to hear your thoughts; who's your favourite character so far? Why?


	5. The Eye of the Storm

_Author's Note: _Thanks to all who reviewed! For those wondering, Molly does know about the Inter-unity law, but she doesn't necessarily know which of her children have been matched. It's up to them to tell her!

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

_"Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are all dead." - Oscar Wilde_

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><p>"Again, from the top!"<p>

Angelina swooped gracefully down on her broom. Her hair was soaked and plastered to her face, and Ginny couldn't tell if Angelina could see much of anything at all. She pushed violently at her own sopping red hair. The rain was coming down like bullets, and her hands had frozen to her broom long ago.

Ginny glanced enviously at her friends down below. Hermione, Lavender, and Luna were munching idly on toast, a cluster of charmed umbrellas obscuring their faces. Ginny loved quidditch, but she would have given an arm and both of her legs to be with them right now. She fought the rising urge to scream.

"Bloody hell, Angelina!" George shouted. His uniform clung to his arms and neck, as if someone had recently dumped a large bucket of water over his head. "We've been going at this for two hours, now. Don't you think it's time we take a break?"

He glanced nervously at Katie, who was shivering violently. Her lips were stained blue, as if she had recently eaten a large carton of blueberries. Angelina looked at Fred, who shrugged; Ginny could tell that even he was beginning to seriously doubt the sanity of his fiancé.

"It is pretty cold, Ange," he said.

"Buck up, Weasleys," their captain barked, although she sounded weary, too. "We're not leaving until we nail this routine. We play Slytherin in three days time, and I'll be damned if we lose. This is a big one."

Her words had roused the team, and they surveyed each other with grim looks of determination. The mention of Slytherin house was enough to make any Gryffindor forget even the hardest of storms.

"Let's do it," Harry called, earning a smile from Angelina. "The faster we learn this, the sooner we can go inside."

"Pattern Seven," Angelina yelled, circling her broom in midair. "I want a left hook from Ginny and a backhand receive from Katie. McLaggan, try to intercept it at the last moment. I want the element of surprise. Let's go, team!"

The team zoomed past her and into the rain, squinting against the hard onslaught. Fred stopped to squeeze Angelina's shoulder. Ginny took her own position, launching into a dive that was shortly followed by a roll to avoid a well-placed bludger from George. She feinted to the left, tossing the quaffle to Katie, who passed it to Angelina. The play went seamlessly, and she felt a burst of pride. They really did have a chance this year.

It was about twenty minutes later when the first whistle reached Ginny's ears. She stopped, suspended in mid-roll. Angelina shouted something over the rain, and Ginny heard the word _finished_. Her announcement was met with an eruption of cheers from the team.

They gathered in a tight knot about twenty-five feet up. Her teammates all looked like they had been swimming recently, but each was grinning from ear-to-ear. Angelina looked giddy with excitement.

"That was wonderful!" she trilled. "We'll discuss what went wrong later. In the mean time, let's just all hurry to the-"

A shrill scream split the air. Angelina cut off immediately, her hand jumping to where her wand should have been, had she not been in quidditch fear. Ginny's heartbeat picked up. She scanned the ground, recognizing the sound. A crumpled figure lay far below, splayed across the benches with two anxious figures hovering above her.

"It's Lavender!" Her voice was hoarse. "Something's wrong."

Panic rose inside her chest, a thick yellow cloud of noxious gas. She still had her wand with her. During the war, she had carried it everywhere, even to bed and the shower. Now, it was habit.

"I'm going," Ginny announced.

She readied herself to dive, tilting forwards on her broom, when a noise caught her attention. There was a sharp, pained intake of breath from beside her. Cormac McLaggan was swaying violently on his broom. Ginny cursed colourfully under her breath, flicking wet hair out of her face.

"McLaggan?" She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Look at me."

Her teammates sat, frozen. Cormac stared emptily into space. Ginny felt a shiver go down her back, and she bit down hard on her lip. Something was wrong with both him and Lavender; could it be contagious? She glanced at the ground, and her heart tore in two. She wished desperately that Parvati were here; without the other girl, Ginny was probably the best at healing charms.

The question was: should she go to Lavender, or stay with Cormac?

The Keeper made the decision for her. Abruptly, he slumped sideways, tipping to the left and rolling off of his broom. He fell through the air quietly. Ginny screamed. Immediately, Fred and George shot after him, their brooms diving in sync. With a cry of frustration, Ginny ripped towards the ground. She dismounted shortly, withdrawing her wand as she ran towards the girls.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"I'm not sure." Hermione's face was pale and pinched. "We were talking, and then she screamed and fell over. I tried to take her pulse, and I found this."

Hermione knelt down, flipping Lavender's palm so that Ginny could see. A fresh cut ran down the length of Lavender's hand, coloured a brilliant shade of turquoise. Ginny examined it closely.

"I've never seen it before," she admitted. "And I read a lot of Healer textbooks when I volunteered at St. Mungo's. If it was a disease, I would recognize it."

Luna crouched beside the pair of them. "Can you guess?"

Ginny gave her a hard look. "If I could, I already would have."

"Madam Pomfrey will be able to mend her, surely," Hermione reassured them, watching their exchange nervously. "We're not out of options."

Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but faltered. Her wand sat uselessly in the palm of her hand. Luna squeezed her hand, and when she spoke, her voice was steady. "I've already sent Katie to find her. She's coming now."

Hermione nodded, but her throat was working. Ginny felt a lump rise in her throat. Her eyes were stinging, and she thought that she might be crying, but it was difficult to tell in the rain. Someone called her name, and she turned.

"Gin!" George was cupping his hands to be heard over the storm. "We need you. Hurry!"

Ginny stood shakily, her wand still drawn. Her confidence was dwindling. If Cormac had whatever Lavender had contracted, she wouldn't be able to fix it. Luna and Hermione were still focused on their friend, and Ginny wasn't sure if they heard her when she spoke.

"I'll be back in two minutes. If anything changes, call me back."

She hurried through the rain, shielding her eyes. Twice, she slipped on the muddy grass. She slid to a stop where her brothers stood about twenty feet away. George was looking much more serious than she had ever seen him.

"It's an odd one," he warned her.

With dismay, Ginny saw that Cormac had an identical mark to Lavender's. It was the exact same shade, but on the opposite hand, like a mirror image. Suddenly, a vague idea began to collect in her head, and she frowned.

"He's never had this mark before?" she clarified.

Fred looked up from where he was kneeling beside their teammate, and he shook his head. "Not that I've noticed. Gin, do you think that he's going to-?"

Ginny held up a hand before he could continue. Her head was spinning, and her mind was hurtling along at a hundred miles an hour. She could feel the explanation staring her in the face.

"He didn't touch Lavender at all?" Ginny asked, although she already knew what the answer would be. When Fred shook his head, she grinned. "Then I know what it is."

"Really?"

"Yes," she laughed, relieved. "And I can help him."

It was too coincidental that both Cormac and Lavender had matching marks, especially since neither one of them had one before. It seemed almost impossible that they both happened to develop a reaction at the same time. The only two options were rapid contamination, at which rate the entire time would be affected, or-

"What is it?" Fred demanded.

"A match."

Fred and George exchanged a long look. For a moment, it was clear that they thought the storm and early onset hypothermia had affected her brain. Then, a look of understanding passed between them. George sighed.

"Ah," he said. "The things we do for love."

Fred stood up. "How do we fix it?"

"Simple." Ginny brushed off her trousers. "We're going to drag Cormac across the field so that he and Lavender can hold hands."

* * *

><p>It took some effort, but between all of them, they managed to haul Cormac towards Lavender. Fred hadn't wanted to move him in his damaged state, but Ginny convinced her brother that it was their best option: Lavender was too injured to be moved, especially in a storm. With the leverage of the slick grass, they could transport Cormac quickly. It was a gruelling process, especially since Ginny didn't want to risk using spells on Cormac to transport him. Katie still hadn't arrived with Madam Pomfrey when they reached Lavender's unconscious form. Ginny was breathing heavily.<p>

"Okay," she said. "Let's do it quickly."

Nobody moved. The rest of the team had gathered around the two crumpled figures, and they eyed one another uneasily. Fred had wrapped his arms around Angelina, and George cleared his throat.

"Well," he said. "Should we, um-"

"It should be Ginny." Luna's words were firm, and she nudged Ginny forwards. "She has the most experience."

"I don't know…" Ginny glanced nervously between Lavender and Cormac's unconscious forms. "Medical training won't help with this."

"Luna's right, though." Hermione nodded encouragingly. "It's your decision, Ginny. You should be the one to do it."

Her words were both inspiring and terrifying. Shakily, Ginny knelt. She held both Lavender and Cormac's hand in her own grasp, hesitating. She closed her eyes. Then, quickly, she clasped the two palms together. The streaks of color aligned, and there was a brief shock, like an electric current.

The pitch was silent. The only sound was the roar of blood in her ears, and the relentless pounding of the rain. Her heart crept towards her throat. Ginny jumped as a loud _bang _echoed across the pitch. The castle doors flew wide, and then Madam Pomfrey was running across the field, her heels sliding in the mud. Katie was at her heels.

"Where are they?" Madam Pomfrey demanded.

Her voice held an edge of hysteria, and Ginny felt a chill go down her back. Katie had gained ground, running towards them at breakneck pace. She reached them in record time, and she flung her arms around George, who caught her easily. His hand moved to her hair.

"I ran," Katie was saying, her voice cracking. "I ran as fast as I could, but it wasn't fast enough. George, if they died-"

"Shh." He stroked her hair. "It'll be alright, Kate, you'll see."

Madam Pomfrey reached their side. Her eyes flicked to where Lavender and Cormac's hands were entwined, and the matron frowned. Ginny felt her throat swell. It must have shown on her face, because Harry put on arm around her, and she buried her face in her hands.

"What happened?" a small voice asked.

Ginny's head jerked up. Dazedly, Lavender sat up, and she rubbed at her head, wincing. Ginny let out something like a gasp. She was suddenly glad that it was raining hard enough to mask her tears. She threw herself at her friend, knocking her over and she hugged her. Lavender smiled, but her eyes were anxious.

"Did I fall or something? I don't remember being on a broom."

Ginny couldn't help it; her eyes shot to where Cormac still lay on the ground, unconscious. Lavender followed her gaze. Her friend inhaled sharply, and she stifled something like a sob.

"You were matched." Hermione's voice was soft. "I guess the pain of your hand was too much, and you passed out."

"And Cormac?" Lavender whispered.

"The same thing," Hermione explained. "Only he hasn't woken up yet."

Lavender looked horrified. Ginny watched as she raised her palm to eye-level, staring at it as if it was a foreign, mechanical part attached to her body. Madam Pomfrey took a step forwards.

"Ms. Brown, you must go to the Hospital Wing immediately." Her voice was brisk. "I'll examine you shortly."

Lavender looked like she was about to argue, but didn't have the energy for it. Resigned, she slumped backwards. Both Luna and Hermione stepped forwards, scooping her up and propping her body between them.

"As for Mr. McLaggan…" Madam Pomfrey's voice was grim. "I'm not sure if it's worth moving him at this point. Merlin knows he might be more comfortable here. Still, his parents would want him in a hospital bed, so we'll move him, I suppose."

Ginny inhaled sharply. Although the matron hadn't actually said the words, Ginny could read between the lines: Cormac was going to die. Lavender swayed violently. Then, quite suddenly, she burst into tears. She seemed abruptly horrified by her own reaction, and she turned away so that they could only hear her muffled cries.

"There's nothing that can be done for him?" Fred asked solemnly.

"I'm afraid not." Madam Pomfrey's voice was tight and clipped. "It's unlikely that Mr. McLaggan will ever recover if he hasn't woken yet."

Lavender's cries changed to racking sobs. Luna put a hand on her back, but Lavender didn't seem to feel it. Ginny exchanged a helpless look with Hermione. She could tell that they both wished that Parvati were here; she always knew how best to comfort Lavender.

"Come on," Luna instructed, coaxing Lavender into a fully upright position. "We're going to take you to the Hospital Wing, Lavender. You'll feel better once you're fixed up and in clean clothes. Hermione? Would you mind?"

The other girl ducked under Lavender's other arm. Together, they bore the brunt of Lavender's weight. Her face was streaked with mascara, and her eyes were wild. She had curled her hand into a fist, as if she could conceal the mark forever. Ginny felt a pang of guilty relief as she was led off the field.

The rest of the team was left, gathered around Cormac. Many of the girls were crying, and Ginny suddenly felt as if they were already at his funeral, watching his life slip away. Madam Pomfrey's mouth was a taut line.

"And whose idea was it to put the two students' palms together?"

There was a moment of silence. Ginny could tell that everyone was trying very hard not to look at her, and she swallowed thickly, grateful for their loyalty. Still, she stepped forward.

"It was mine," she admitted.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "You've saved Ms. Brown's life. It may have been rash and full of stupidity, but if you hadn't done it, she would surely be dead. I suppose I ought to thank-you."

It was an odd sort of expression of gratitude, but the matron had tried, and Ginny offered her a weak smile. She didn't feel deserving of it; if she had acted sooner, then perhaps she could have saved two lives.

"Thirty points to Gryffindor," Madam Pomfrey said.

The smile was frozen. "Thank-you."

A groan caught all of their attentions. Ginny's gaze snapped to the wet field, where Cormac was lying. He was deathly still, and his face was drained of all color. Still, when Ginny looked closely, she saw the faintest movement: his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

"Madam Pomfrey." She whipped around. "Did you see-?"

"Move him to the Hospital Wing." The matron's voice was hoarse. "If we move him now, there might still be a chance. No spells – we can't risk damage. I'll hurry ahead and prepare a potion. In the mean time, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley, if you would be so kind…"

Both Fred and George stepped forward. Madam Pomfrey was already gone, sprinting across the castle grounds. She was surprisingly spry for her age, and she disappeared through the doors. The twins looked down at Cormac, and Ginny could see the worry in their expressions. He was bigger and stockier than both of the twins, and now, unfortunately, dead weight as well.

"We need to get him out of the rain," Harry said.

"Well, how clever of you to observe, Potter."

A figure emerged from the rain. Draco Malfoy was sopping wet, and his black cloak was soaked through. Blond hair stuck to his face, falling into his eyes. He looked almost amused. His eyes found Ginny, and she shivered from the cold, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Who invited you, Malfoy?" Harry spat.

"It's a long story." He sounded bored. "It ends with Pansy threatening to turn me into a pincushion unless I save dear Neville's friend. Now, I suppose you want to move him to the Hospital Wing?"

Harry was eyeing Malfoy with distrust. "As opposed to where?"

"The forest." Malfoy bent down. He picked up Cormac as if he was a particularly bothersome sac of flour, just a little too heavy for comfort. "I was hoping you'd get lost, you see, and then both of you wouldn't come back."

And with that, he started in the direction of the castle.

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	6. A Shocking Surprise

_Author's Note: _Wow! What an overwhelming number of reviews! Thanks to everyone that shared their favourite matches with me. For those who asked which match is my favourite, it happens in this chapter!

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><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

_"As soon as I saw you, I knew that a grand adventure was about to happen." - A.A. Milne_

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><p>It came to Ginny as a surprise that Draco Malfoy had a group of girls that were arguably in love with him. In the week following the accident, Ginny was followed everywhere: classrooms, the Great Hall, the quidditch pitch. Even the loos were not private anymore.<p>

"Did he _really _carry Cormac all the way to the hospital wing?"

"What's he like in person?"

"Is his hair really that color, or does he charm it?"

Ginny turned off the sink with a hard jerk of her wrist. The group of second-year girls waited impatiently for an answer, and she sighed. "Yes, he did carry Cormac. Up the staircases as well."

The group squealed, clutching on to one another as if they might fall down otherwise. With a shake of her head, Ginny started to leave the toilet. The crowd of eager second-years were hot on her heels.

"Did he carry you, too?" It was a plump girl with pigtails, and she twirled one around her finger. "Once he had put down your Keeper?"

Ginny shivered at the thought of Draco Malfoy putting his hands anywhere near her. He was handsome, of course, but in the same way that the sea was: beautiful, but deadly, sinking ships between one moment and the next. Ginny opened her mouth to reply when a second girl with spiked hair cut her off.

"What a stupid question, Becca," she reprimanded her friend. "Of course Draco didn't; Ginny wasn't injured."

The plump girl shrunk back a little. "I just thought-"

"You thought wrong."

"Well, maybe-"

"Ooh!" The eyes of the girl with the spiked hair lit up. "Do you think Alice has heard about this yet? I could tell her-"

"Don't bother," a third girl chimed in. "I've got potions with her this afternoon. I'll mention it."

"Cindy is going to _die_. She's fancied Draco since first year-"

"Oi!" Ginny snapped, ending their excited chatter. "If you all don't mind, you lot can bugger off. I have things I need to do." She took in their stricken expressions and, more calmly, added, "please."

The girl with the spiked hair sniffed. "Come along, girls."

She adjusted her book bag indignantly. The other second-year girls followed her lead, trailing her down the corridor. Ginny sighed, relaxing as they disappeared. They would be back, she knew, but she had bought herself some time. She began to walk towards the Hospital Wing, hardly paying attention to where she was going. Her feet knew the way now; she had become a frequent visitor. It was the only time she ever saw Lavender anymore. Her friend refused to leave Cormac's side even to eat, and she wouldn't answer owls, either.

Ginny pushed open the hospital doors, noting Parvati's robe discarded on a nearby chair. Soft, insistent whispers floated over the screens hiding the beds, reaching Ginny's ears. Ginny hurried towards them.

"How long have you been here, Parvati?" she demanded. "It's bad enough that we have to deal with Lavender missing. You can't just-"

She pulled back the screen, faltering at Parvati's pointed look. Lavender sat cross-legged on the end of the bed, her eyes closed in deep concentration. Her brow was furrowed. She swayed from side to side, as if following some silent music that Ginny couldn't hear. When Ginny shot Parvati a questioning look, the other girl shook her head.

"Lavender's read in some muggle magazine that anything can be achieved through meditation," she explained. "She's been at it for a quarter of an hour."

"Does it work?" Ginny asked, bewildered. Her father had never mentioned anything of the sort, and Arthur Weasley was an expert on muggles. It sounded almost like magic.

Parvati's lip curled upwards. "If it did, I would be eating a treacle tart right now."

"'Vati!" Lavender's eyes flew open. "You're spoiling my concentration."

Her face was the picture of intent, and Lavender crossed her arms over her chest. Parvati shrugged helplessly. "Sorry, Lav, but don't you think it's time you gave it a rest? Don't you want food? You haven't eaten in days."

Ginny thought that was a bit of a stretch; she, Parvati, and Hermione had taken turns bringing Lavender food, and if anything, it had only encouraged her to remain at Cormac's side. As she had suspected, Lavender merely shrugged.

"I'm full."

"Yeah." Parvati's forehead creased. "But come dinner… I mean, what I want to say is…"

Parvati floundered for a moment. Ginny could tell that she didn't want to upset Lavender, and she was tip-toeing around her. With a sigh, Ginny leaned forward, taking pity on Parvati.

"What she means to say, Lavender, is that we won't bring you food anymore."

Lavender's head snapped up. "What?"

"No more food," Ginny repeated. "Unless you come and get it yourself."

Lavender's face crumpled. Her lower lip jutted out, and for a moment, Ginny thought that she might cry or yell or whine. Instead, her friend glanced sideways at where Cormac lay. He was very still, and his face was flushed with fever. Lavender leaned over and kissed his forehead, and Ginny felt both a burst of pride and a pang of sadness; Lavender had somehow grown up overnight.

"Okay," Lavender conceded. "But I'm coming straight back afterwards."

* * *

><p>Care of Magical Creatures had never been Ginny's favourite class. Despite her brother teaching the class, Ginny had trouble staying awake most of the time. She had been allowed to skip to the sixth year class, which she suspected had less to do with her talent and more to do with Charlie, but it did nothing to increase her interest. Currently, Ginny yawned, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She glanced wearily to where Charlie stood, excitedly explaining the merit of unicorn droppings. Ginny couldn't resist a smile; Charlie had always been adorably enthusiastic about these sorts of things.<p>

"And this, class," he said, "is a unicorn."

Ginny perked up as a snow white creature broke into the clearing. The unicorn cantered closer, and Charlie clicked his tongue softly. Giggles rippled through the crowd, each girl delighted to either see unicorn or to have an excuse to stare at Charlie. Hermione raised an eyebrow at her, and Ginny mimed gagging, making the other girl smile.

"Unicorns are incredibly rare creatures," Charlie continued. "Their hair is often used in wands, such as Miss Weasley's. Ginny, would you mind holding your wand up, please?"

Ginny immediately stopped gagging, dropping her hand to her side. Heads snapped towards her. She felt herself color, and she raised her wand feebly over her head, wishing, not for the first time, that Charlie would not call on her in class. Charlie, who almost certainly knew this, beamed.

"Thank-you, Miss Weasley. Now, unicorn blood has properties such as healing and immortality, both of which are not utilised in hospital for ethical purposes. And also, because unicorns are too beautiful to kill."

Charlie gestured again to the creature. Ginny hid a smile as the unicorn skittered farther away from him; not all females liked Charlie, after all. Charlie seemed to notice this too.

"Unicorns prefer a female touch," he said, by way of explanation. "In fact, let's have a female student come up and show us how it's done." Charlie paused, surveying the crowd of eager students. "Miss Granger, perhaps?"

The student body gave a collective groan; the boys, because Hermione was almost always chosen, and the girls, because each wanted to have been chosen instead. A girl next to Ginny was pouting, and she whispered something to her friend about Charlie and his clothes that made Ginny want to stuff her fingers in her ears.

"Are you ready, Miss Granger?" Charlie asked, grinning.

Hermione nodded apprehensively. Charlie held out a hand, helping Hermione over the gate and into the enclosure that he had erected for himself and the unicorn. When Hermione was safely across, Charlie started towards the unicorn.

"Right. Now the first thing about unicorns is that-" He broke off, glancing down at where Hermione still held his hand in a tight grip. "Miss Granger, you can let go of me now. The unicorn won't bite."

"Er." Hermione's cheeks were pink. "I'm not able to, professor."

Charlie looked slightly incredulous. The students watched, somewhat delightedly, as the older boy tried to pull away. Hermione came right along with him. Their fingers were no longer entwined, but their palms were stuck together, as if with glue. Ginny pulled out her wand, whispered a spell, and then she could hear their heated exchange as if the pair stood right next to her.

"I seriously can't, Charlie," Hermione hissed. "My hand is attached to yours somehow. Did someone enchant the fence?"

"Probably." Charlie's voice was calm. "It must be a hex from one of the students. Can you cast some sort of counter-charm?"

"No." Hermione hesitated. "But Ginny might be able to."

The pair glanced to where Ginny stood, eavesdropping. Even if she hadn't been listening, Ginny knew Hermione well enough to know that she wanted her help. Without a second thought, Ginny started forward, only stopping when a hand caught her shoulder.

"Hold up," Ron said. "I'm coming with."

"Like hell you are." Ginny shook him off irritably. "Stay here."

Ron drew his wand. "Charlie's my brother, too!"

"That's my point!" Ginny snapped. "He's your brother, and so he's the last person in the world you want stuck to your… well, I don't know what Hermione is exactly, but I know that you're going to get jealous and do something stupid."

Ron looked taken aback. "That's not what-"

"Please, Ron." Ginny squeezed her brother's shoulder. "If Charlie was being eaten by the unicorn, then yes, you could help, but all he's currently in danger of is being permanently glued to Hermione."

Ron's blue eyes were wide. For a moment, Ginny was reminded of the time when they were little, and she had fallen off her broom and broke her arm. Ron had been terrified, but he had tried his best to hold it together for her. He hadn't wanted her to see how scared he was.

"Gin…" He scuffed the ground with his shoe. "I need to make sure she's okay."

"Ron, no." Ginny placed a hand on his forearm. "You're with Hannah. I'm not going to pretend that Hermione's thrilled about it, but I think it would be better for the both of you if you kept away from her for right now."

Ron nodded, and Ginny gave him a little shove, directing him towards the pack of students. Many were straining their necks to see the unfolding drama. Ginny swore that one was clutching a camera. Ron returned his wand to his robe pocket, and Ginny jogged in the direction of Charlie and Hermione.

"What's happening?" she demanded.

"I have no idea." Charlie shrugged almost sheepishly, holding up their interlocked hands. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand. "The second that I took Hermione's hand, it just sort of… stayed like that."

Ginny sighed. Leave it to her brother to glue himself to the one girl in the world who didn't want him. As if reading her thoughts, Hermione glanced up, grimacing. "Do you think you can undo the charm?"

Ginny shook her head. "It's nothing that I've ever seen before."

As her words echoed in the morning air, a horrible sense of déjà vu crept over her, climbing up her spine like icy fingers. The wheels in her mind began to turn. With awful clarity, she remembered saying the same words yesterday, to a very different group.

"Charlie," Ginny said, turning to address her brother. "Do you mind if Hermione and I have a private word?"

"Well, normally, I would say yes." Charlie raised their interlocked hands, and Ginny could tell that he was trying not to laugh. "But given the circumstances, I may have to rethink my position."

The students were growing restless; Ginny could see them out of the corner of her eye, pushing at the perimeters of the fence. She took out her wand. "I can cast a bubble charm around you so that you can't hear."

Surprisingly, it was Hermione that spoke. "No."

"No?" Ginny echoed.

"No," Hermione repeated. "Anything that you have to say to me, Charlie can hear, too. It affects both of us."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, but she didn't argue with her friend. "You're not going to like what I have to say."

"When do I ever?" Charlie asked good-naturedly.

Ginny closed her eyes briefly, gathering her courage. The pair looked so hopeful that it almost killed her just to say it; never in a million years had she thought that she would be put in this position.

"I think that you've been matched," she admitted. And then, after taking in their confused expressions, "with one another."

Hermione's mouth fell open, her free hand shooting up to touch her face in shock. Her hand, which had been slack a moment ago, was now gripping Charlie's tightly. Charlie, however, took it much better than Ginny had anticipated.

"That's impossible," he said calmly, as if commenting on the nice weather. "I'm not eligible; I'm over seventeen, and I'm not a Hogwarts student."

Ginny sighed; Charlie was stubborn to begin with, and arguing with him had all the purpose of shouting at a brick wall. If her brother was in denial, she wasn't going to try to convince him differently. "I didn't say that it made sense; I didn't even say that I was certain. I said that, if I had to guess, that's what I would have told you."

Hermione's face was neutral, but Ginny saw her throat working. "We should go directly to Dumbledore. He'll know what's happened."

She seemed to be avoiding Charlie's eyes, and Ginny's brother looked slightly miffed at being ignored. Ginny imagined it must have been frustrating for him to experience having a girl not give him the time of day. As she had suspected, her brother piped up, trying to regain Hermione's attention.

"We can go now, if you'd like." He caught Ginny's eyes. "So long as you can handle the class, Gin."

When she confirmed that she could, the pair thanked her, hurrying in the direction of Dumbledore's office. From far away, Charlie could have been Ron, and Ginny saw what she had always thought the future would hold; Ron and Hermione, holding hands. But Ron had never been able to calm Hermione down like Charlie had and, as if on cue, Ginny could hear Hermione's laugh floating over the lake.

With a sigh, Ginny turned to face the crowd of shouting students; Charlie seriously owed her one.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review! <strong>I love to hear your lovely thoughts


	7. The Storm Breaks

_Author's Note_: [insert vague apology about late update here]. Thanks to all that reviewed! I was delighted to see how many of you liked this new Charlie/Hermione development. And yes, there will definitely be some tension between the pair and Ron for a while.

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

_"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." - Franklin D. Roosevelt_

* * *

><p>Ginny cornered her friend as they were brushing their teeth that evening. She didn't bother with subtleties; instead, she hopped up on to the narrow counter, scooting backwards until her back hit the mirror. Hermione glanced up and, with a sigh, spat her toothpaste into the sink.<p>

"I knew this was coming," she announced.

"What can I say?" Ginny grinned, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Her fingers began to plait it automatically. "I grew up with six brothers; I'm naturally nosy. Now, about you and Charlie-"

Hermione pressed her finger to her lips, and Ginny fell silent. She followed Hermione's eyes to the open door. She could see Parvati patiently listening to Lavender, who was demonstrating a hairstyle charm. She lacked her usual enthusiasm for hair care and beauty products, but at least they had convinced her to leave the Hospital Wing.

"Right." Ginny crossed the small room and shut the door. She quickly returned to her previous seat, swinging her feet. "So?"

"So, it happened." Hermione sat down on a nearby stool. "We're matched."

Ginny almost fell off the counter. "You're what?"

"We're matched." Casually, Hermione began to smother her arms in lotion. The room filled with the smell of lemon and something that reminded Ginny of the bed sheets at the burrow. "Dumbledore has no idea how it happened, but the Cup has spoken, and the contract is binding."

Her voice was very matter-of-fact, as if she was explaining a particularly complicated potion to Ginny. Her brown eyes were fixed on Ginny's face, analyzing her expression as she spoke. Ginny waved her off impatiently. "I just thought- since you're not holding hands-"

"Dumbledore thought it would be better this way," Hermione said. "All signs should wear off by the end of the week, but given the circumstances… well, Charlie thought it might be better if we told people slowly."

Hermione was chewing thoughtfully on her lip, but she didn't look nearly as worried as Ginny thought she might be; Charlie must have calmed her down. Ginny was torn between hitting her friend and hugging her. Hermione was going to be part of the family for real, now: she would be at Christmas and birthdays and weddings. Ginny would be an aunt to her children.

"You're not angry, are you?" Hermione was peering at her anxiously. "And even if you are, please don't tell anyone yet. Charlie wants to talk to your Mum first."

Ginny surprised herself by laughing. "Good for him; I wouldn't want to be the one to tell Mum. She'll have his head on a plate."

There was a silence. Hermione thoughtfully played with the ends of her hair. Ginny drew shapes on the mirror, which was filled with steam from Parvati's shower. It was taking a lot of self-control not to simply jump up and scream in delight; Hermione, who seemed to read her face, offered her a smile.

"He's not so bad, you know," she said. "Charlie, that is."

"I know," Ginny yawned. Stretching, she slid off the counter. "Out of all my brothers, Charlie has always been the one to make me laugh."

"I can see why," Hermione admitted. She, too, yawned, although she was much more polite about it than Ginny had been, and she covered her mouth appropriately. "I'm going to go by the common room and say goodnight to Ron and Harry. Are you coming?"

Ginny, whose eyes were already half-closed, waved her off. Her hand was already on the doorknob. "I'll see you in the morning."

Hermione obviously hadn't missed how quickly Ginny had made for the door, because she raised an eyebrow. "Already counting the seconds until you can get rid of me, then?"

For a moment, Ginny forgot how tired she was, and she laughed out loud. "Actually," she said, "I'll have to put up with you for the rest of my life now. And truth be told, I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

><p>"I can't do this," Hermione announced. "I'll meet you all after breakfast for Charms. Bring me some toast."<p>

The bushy-haired girl turned in the direction of the common room. With a sigh, Ginny exchanged a grim look with Parvati . As one, they took hold of Hermione's arms, dragging her along with them. Students shot them odd looks as the quartet weaved through the staircases: Hermione, Parvati, and Ginny brought up the rear, and Lavender marched ahead.

"Matching isn't that bad," Lavender promised Hermione. "It's fine once you know who you're paired with."

Hermione winced almost imperceptibly. Ginny averted her eyes lest she give something away, hoping that Parvati hadn't caught sight of Hermione's reaction. Ginny gave Hermione's elbow a squeeze, and her friend smiled tightly.

"I'm just nervous," she said.

Ginny figured this much, at least, was true; Charlie would be at breakfast, sitting up at the Head table. It would be the first time that the two were in public together since the matching. Lavender offered Hermione a sympathetic smile.

"If it helps any," she said, "everybody else is feeling exactly the same way."

Ginny mentally kicked herself: that was perhaps the least helpful thing that Lavender could have offered. Hermione, no doubt reminded of her isolated position, went pale. Ginny swallowed thickly. Parvati, who looked both confused and frustrated, shot Ginny a helpless look.

"Don't worry, Hermione," the other girl reassured her. "You caused such a stir yesterday in Care of Magical Creatures that no one is going to care about who you're matched with."

Hermione's face drained of all color, and she looked like she might be ill. Her fingernails dug into Ginny's elbow. Ginny flinched, but didn't move.

"Let's just forget about it, alright?" she said. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Hermione gave her a grateful look. The other two merely shrugged as the girls entered the Great Hall. Ginny caught sight of Ron immediately, his red hair standing out like a flame amidst a barren desert, and she called out. Her brother stood up, his expression clearing as he caught sight of them.

"Ginny!" Ron waved a hand. "Hermione! Over here."

Ginny felt a pang of pity and guilt in the pit of her stomach as Ron gave Hermione an affectionate poke. Her brother was naïve and trusting in a way that not many wizards were after the war. When the news of Charlie and Hermione broke… well, she hoped that Ron was strong enough to survive it.

"Good morning," Ginny chirped, sliding in next to Harry. "What have we missed? Any matches this morning?"

"Not really." Ron scratched behind his ear thoughtfully. "The cup can't seem to make up its mind whether to pair us all at once or make us wait."

His gaze strayed, almost automatically, to where Hannah sat at the Hufflepuff table. She looked especially pretty in a yellow sundress beneath her robes this morning, and Ron smiled a little. Ginny felt herself mimicking her brother; at least there was progress there.

"Have you found your match yet, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Ginny felt her hand freeze as she reached for the bacon. Harry's voice was casual, but there was something in his eyes that made her think he knew more than he was letting on. Harry had always been more observant than any of them gave him credit for. His eyes hadn't left Hermione's face, and her friend flushed as she shook her head. Ginny groaned inwardly as she put her elbow in the syrup.

"I actually-"

Hermione was cut off by the loud screech of an owl. Dozens of winged creatures swooped in, and the students began to chatter excitedly as the post arrived. Hermione looked especially relieved. Ginny spotted Errol among the chaos, his tattered wings stretched wide.

_Either Ron or me, then, _she thought. Her heart fell as Errol circled away from the Gryffindor table. And then, to her complete and utter horror, the owl landed at the Head table. Charlie blinked, startled. She saw his brow furrow. And then, his mouth set into a thin line. He held up the letter.

It was a Howler.

"Well, would you look at that?" Draco Malfoy had sat up straighter, craning his neck to get a better view of the staff table. Several students nearby had fallen quiet to listen. "Weasley Senior's got a Howler!"

Ginny's mouth fell open in horror. Across from her, Hermione had gone a horrible, pasty color. Charlie was holding the letter away from him as if it was an exploding bomb. The entire hall had gone silent to listen, their eyes tracking the movement of the letter.

Hermione exchanged a frantic look with Charlie, who shook his head, almost helplessly. With surprisingly steady hands, he ripped open the letter. Lavender looked mildly curious, Parvati, confused, and Ron, vindictive. No doubt, he was hoping to watch his mother chew Charlie out for something. The letter exploded before Charlie had a chance to finish opening it. It raised itself into the air with a _cracking _sound, and Molly Weasley's magnified voice filled the Hall.

"Charles Septimus Weasley!" The voice was deafening, and several students winced and plugged their ears. "The next time you come home, you will find all the doors locked and your things on the porch! How dare you hide behind writing and a two-sentence letter; it was an immature and _cowardly _thing to do. Your father and I hoped that you might consider news as important as your _engagement _something to tell us in person!"

Gasps went through the crowd, exploding like fireworks. Students began whispering, turning in every direction. Ginny thought that she saw Professors Sprout and Flitwick exchange a few galleons. Hermione's face was positively flaming. Her gaze darted towards the door.

"Have we not raised you right, Charles?" Molly continued. "Have we taught you to hide from your problems and your family? I expect a formal apology both to your fiancée and myself! And, if you're listening, this is not your fault, Hermione, darling; we're quite pleased to have you as a daughter-in-law."

This time, there were a few shocked cries from the staff table as well. Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose. His face was composed, although his shoulders were hunched, as if he was braving a windstorm. Hermione looked like she would very much like to disappear.

Molly's voice continued, rising in pitch. "You will bring her for a visit, do you understand me, Charlie Weasley? This week. Immediately. The moment that you receive this letter. I will know if you avoid your father and I, and remember what I said about your things on the porch."

With that, the Howler exploded, crumbling into dust and ash. Ginny watched, completely horror-struck, as the remains drifted to the ground. A stunned silence rang throughout the Hall. Every student was staring either at Charlie or Hermione, the latter of who looked so embarrassed Ginny swore she was emitting heat.

"Well." George whistled, low in his throat. "That was certainly interesting. Meal time entertainment at its finest, I'd say."

The twins exchanged a smirk, and then, in unison, looked to Charlie. Their older brother had the good grace to give them a small smile. Fred catcalled, and Angelina and Katie laughed. Slowly, conversation began again. Neville rather deliberately engaged several Gryffindors in conversation, pulling their gazes from Hermione. The mortified girl took the opportunity to dash out of the hall, leaving her breakfast untouched. Charlie followed shortly after her.

"Did you know?"

Ginny glanced up. Ron was staring hard at her, and Ginny felt the guilty inside of her begin to wind itself into a tight ball.

"She asked me not to tell," she said simply.

Ron gave no sign that he had heard her. His expression was carefully blank, and he stabbed at his sausage. Ginny frowned. She wished that he would yell, or scream, or something. Anything was better than pretending that everything was all right.

"Ginny!"

A third year Hufflepuff dropped into Hermione's vacated seat. The younger girl's cheeks were red, and she looked slightly breathless. Ginny could see her friends giggling over at the Hufflepuff table, but the girl stoutly ignored them.

"I was wondering…" Her eyes were bright. "Do you think that you could tell me how it happened?"

Ginny's heart sunk. She could already imagine the difficulty of reaching her classes on time this week; the loos wouldn't be private for at least a month, if this was anything like the Draco Malfoy incident.

"Actually," a female voice said, "Ginny promised that she would help me with my Charms essay. Isn't that right, Gin?"

Luna stood over them, her long blonde curls tumbling around her face. Surreptitiously, she winked at Ginny. Taking the cue, Ginny bobbed her head up and down, relief filling her. She shaped her expression into something like regret.

"I did promise," she agreed. "Sorry."

Luna tugged on her sleeve, and Ginny obediently rose from the table. The pair hurried towards the double doors. Ginny could already hear the whispers chasing them from the hall, and with a sinking feeling in her stomach, she realized that this was far from over.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review! <strong>Favourite chapter so far?


	8. Luna

_Author's Note_: Definitely interesting to hear all of your favourite chapters. I was surprised at how many of you liked the one with Charlie and Hermione! My personal favourite has yet to come, but I've written it down in my planner, so I promise it will happen at some point.

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

_"There's plenty of sense in nonsense sometimes, if you wish to look for it." - Cassandra Clare_

* * *

><p>"Do you want to talk about it?" Luna asked.<p>

Ginny watched as the other girl's wrist flicked back, and then snapped, releasing a pebble. The rock skirted along the lake's surface. Ginny pushed her red hair impatiently behind her ear, shaking her head.

"Not right now," she admitted. "I'm happy for Hermione and Charlie, but I don't think that I can talk to one more person about it."

Luna passed Ginny a stone. With a grunt, she pitched it at the lake. Ginny pulled a face as it sank straight to the bottom of the lake, falling in time with her heart. Luna watched it too, biting her lip.

"Do you think that we'll be as happy as her?" she asked. "Hermione, I mean. When we find our matches."

Luna, who was always so steady and certain, looked to Ginny for reassurance. Ginny felt the hole in her heart gape even wider than it had been before. She shrugged, picking up another rock.

"I don't know," she said truthfully. "I think we'll be all right with it eventually; the system tests for aptitude, remember? Whoever it is will be compatible with us, whether we realize it or not."

Luna shivered, pulling her robes more securely around her shoulders. "Do you really think I'll love him?"

"I know you will," Ginny told her. "Besides, it's already the fifth day of matching week. We'll have to find out soon enough."

Luna let out a breath, and it hung in the air like a cloud of spun sugar. "Then I have something to tell you."

Her voice was filled with a strange combination of reluctance, excitement, and anxiety. Ginny whirled around to face her, almost losing her footing on the slippery bank of the lake.

"What is it?" she demanded.

Luna looked slightly alarmed. "It's not that important."

"What's not that important?"

Luna smiled, and it curved mischievously at the ends. "Yesterday night, I began to have these images that keep growing stronger. I mean, they're still pretty faint, but I catch bits of things I recognize: a quidditch pitch, or a cauldron cake. I don't mean to sound completely mad," she added, catching Ginny's look of disbelief, "but I think that I can read my match's mind."

Ginny stood, stunned, staring at Luna. A rock sat forgotten in the palm of her hand. Then, she felt her face split into a wide smile. "Luna! That's brilliant. Do you have any idea who it might be?"

For a moment, Ginny thought that she saw something odd flicker across Luna's face, but the other girl's face cleared so quickly that she might have imagined it. Luna shook her head, sending her blonde curls flying.

"Not yet," she admitted, "but I'm trying. I have the feeling that he can read my mind too, so who knows? He might find me first."

Ginny whistled, impressed. The stone had grown cold in her hands, and she let it fall to the ground. Gathering her robes beneath her like a blanket, she took a seat beside the fallen rock. Her arms gathered her knees to her chest.

"That's incredible, Lu."

Luna plopped down beside her. "You're not angry, are you?"

"Of course not," Ginny said, elbowing her. "So long as you're not upset, that is. Then I'll become a force to be reckoned with."

Luna laughed. With a jerk of her wrist, she cast another stone into the lake, her giggles trailing behind it. "I'm not, actually. In fact, I might just be happy."

The excitement that had bubbled beneath the surface had finally broken though the skin of her words, leaking into her voice. Ginny rubbed at her arms, trying to chase away the goose bumps. She still didn't know where her own thoughts were at yet, but she plastered on what she hoped to be a convincing smile.

"You're happy?"

"I'm happy."

"Well, then," Ginny said, "that's all I need to hear."

* * *

><p>Ginny exhaled as she watched Snape draw what felt like the hundredth series of complicated figures on the board. Each line added more confusion than the previous one, and Ginny felt like her head might explode soon. She glanced down, with some trepidation, at the parchment she had filled with random scribbles; if she wanted to become a Healer, she needed to concentrate. At this rate, Ginny wouldn't even pass exams.<p>

"Ginny!"

She ignored the whisper, trying to concentrate on the board in front of her. A hand shook her arm insistently. Ginny frowned as she shook the person off. She caught a glimpse of Luna's annoyed expression out of the corner of her eye.

"Ginny Weasley," the girl hissed. "Listen to me!"

This time, she pulled on Ginny's ponytail. The roots of her hair gave a jolt of protest, sending pain radiating through her scalp. Ginny turned, her eyebrows narrowed.

"I need to concentrate on this," she whispered fiercely. "We can talk after class, alright?"

Ginny immediately regretted her words as she took in Luna's expression. She had gone as white as paper, and there was dread written into the lines of her face. Luna's hand was wrapped around her textbook in a viselike grip. Ginny felt a rush of concern fill her.

"What is it?" she demanded. "What's wrong?"

Luna shook her head. "I-"

She cut off. Ginny followed Luna's gaze to where Professor Snape stood above them, lurking silently over their desks. Luna shrunk back, a little fearfully. When Ginny caught the professor's eye, he sneered.

"Oh, do go on, Miss Lovegood." His words were soft, venomous. "Whatever you had to say was obviously of more importance than my class. I'm sure that I'd love to hear it."

Luna paled further. Ginny kicked her beneath the desk, and she stared Snape directly in his beady black eyes. When she spoke, her teeth were gritted. "It was nothing, professor."

Snape's lip curled. "The next time that _nothing _occurs in my class, Miss Weasley, I'll take house points."

As soon as Snape retreated to the board, resuming his lecture, Ginny leaned towards Luna. Her friend was twirling a quill around and around at a growing pace, and her eyes were scrunched up.

"Oi!" Ginny knocked the quill out of her hand. "You look like you're about to be ill; what is it?"

Luna bit her lip. She chanced a glance over her shoulder to make sure that Snape wasn't watching before speaking, her voice a murmur. "I can talk to my match now. In my head."

There was a moment of stunned silence before Ginny lost it completely, forgetting all about being quiet. "You can _what_? In your-"

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Snape announced triumphantly.

His long, bony finger pointed at the two of them, and the class watched the exchange like a ping pong match, their heads swivelling back and forth. Ginny scowled. Her hand itched to grab her wand, but Luna shot her a pointed look that said she should resist. Instead, Ginny pursed her lips.

"Sorry, professor," she apologized sweetly. And then, under her breath, "I hope that someone curses you into a dung beetle, and you live in an ugly glass jar for the rest of your life, forced to eat crickets and-"

"Ginny." Luna coughed. "Shut-up."

Ginny felt herself color. "Sorry."

Her friend waved her off, and her hand moved as if she was copying notes, although Ginny could see that Luna had no writing on her parchment. In fact, she could tell by Luna's expression that the Ravenclaw was mulling something over. And, as she had expected, Luna leaned over a moment later.

"Hit me," she instructed.

Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "You want me to hit you?"

"Well, I don't know about you," Luna said wryly, "but I'd rather be somewhere that we can talk, like the Hospital Wing."

Ginny swore that she heard the faintest note of smugness in Luna's voice, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. _Stupid Ravenclaws and their stupid logic, _she thought crossly. Luna was still waiting expectantly, and Ginny shrugged.

"Alright, then. Let's do this."

Ginny tensed herself to spring. Luna gave the slightest nod, jerking two fingers towards her. Ginny understood it as the signal to begin, and she did; Merlin, did she ever.

"What the _bloody hell_, Luna!"

Ginny knocked over her desk as she jumped to her feet. Quills and ink spilled everywhere, and several ingredients smashed on the ground. The parchment she was supposed to have been writing on was destroyed. Luna stood as well, crossing her arms over her chest indignantly.

"I told you, Ginny!" Luna held up a placating hand. "It wasn't like that."

Ginny let out a laugh, but there was nothing warm about the sound, and several students flinched. Her hands clenched into fists. She dared to take a dramatic pause, playing for time; she had no idea what Luna thought they were arguing about, but Ginny certainly hadn't thought the scenario out ahead of time.

"I can't believe I told you!" she tried "You're such a double-crossing, traitorous, _liar_."

Ginny took a step forward, moving slightly out of Snape's grasp: the show had to become full-scale if they wanted any chance of escape. Luna looked absolutely furious. Her frame was shaking.

"I'm the traitor?" she demanded. "Merlin, you're such a git, Weasley."

Ginny 's eyes narrowed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Snape pulling out his wand, and she decided that they had better get on with it quickly. She let out an almighty shriek. "That's it! You're dead, Lovegood!"

Ginny launched herself at Luna. The two of them tumbled to the floor, a whirl of red and blonde hair. Several students screamed. Snape fired a shot at where they had been standing, but missed. Ginny was debating pulling out her own wand for show, but hexes hurt more in the long run, and so she punched Luna square in the jaw. Luna screamed bloody murder before elbowing Ginny in the face.

Ginny staggered upwards, trying to look visibly injured. The students, apparently realizing that Ginny was about to go in for a second attack, surged towards them. Colin Creevy and several other boys latched on to Luna. Her own arms were pinned behind her back by Will Corner.

"What was that, Ginny?" His voice was pitched low, and his mouth was by her ear. "You two never fight."

Given that anything she told Michael Corner's brother was going straight to Michael and, therefore, Parvati, Ginny decided that it was better to be honest. She twisted, almost as if trying to get away, and her face was hidden when she spoke.

"We're trying to get out of class," she explained quietly. "It's important."

Ginny shot another dirty look at Luna. She looked almost angelic, her long blonde hair falling around her face. The boys were still holding her arms, and she was sporting a bruising chin. Will, being a Ravenclaw, understood immediately.

"Ah," he said. "She's been matched."

Ginny shrugged. "Sort of."

"How entertaining." The class fell silent as Professor Snape stepped forward. His expression was cold, and when he spoke, his voice was silky. "A childish spat. Unfortunately, fighting is not tolerated at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and if it was up to me, your trunks would already be packed."

Ginny felt the urge to shout rising, and she bit down hard on her tongue until she tasted blood. Snape was a coward, she reminded herself. He was all words and no action. Will squeezed her hand covertly, and she relaxed.

"As for the rest of you," Snape continued, addressing the class, "I expect you to complete the potion I have finished demonstration while I take care of these two. If it is brewed incorrectly, you will stay here until it is fixed."

Ginny carefully avoided Luna's eyes as the pair was ushered from the room. Snape swept ahead of them, his robes billowing behind him. Ginny had to muffle her laughter by turning her head into her collar, and Luna passed off a laugh as a cough.

"Quiet," Snape snapped.

Next to her, Luna pulled a face at his back.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, detention during matching week was prohibited. The trio stood in the Headmaster's office, Snape standing as the girls munched happily on biscuits in the seats in front of the desk. Ginny was delighted by the turn of events, hanging her head to keep from smiling. Snape, on the other hand, was beside himself.<p>

"You must be joking, Headmaster," he said. "It would appear that these students are in need of serious punishment. Someone must inform them that the Potions classroom is not their personal circus."

Dumbledore smiled benignly. Ginny thought that he looked quite delighted by the whole situation, and he chewed thoughtfully on a lemon drop. "Severus, given the circumstances the week has to offer, I couldn't imagine blaming the students for acting out of character. Miss Weasley and Miss Lovegood don't visit me often. Would you girls disagree with this statement?"

Meekly, Ginny shook her head. Luna's eyes widened angelically. Snape's eyes cut them in half, and he looked even more infuriated than he had been before. Ginny smiled at him sweetly.

"Honestly, professor," she said innocently, "I can't quite remember what this whole silly argument was about."

She was amused to find that she sounded suspiciously like Fred and George appealing to their mother. Dumbledore, to her relief, smiled patiently at Snape. "See, Severus? The best thing for these girls would be to rest in the Hospital Wing, and perhaps a strong calming draught. Madam Pomfrey has a batch leftover from Ms. Brown's visit a few days ago."

At Dumbledore's words, Ginny realized that Lavender had yet to hear of the fight. She would undoubtedly have plenty of questions for the both of them; Ginny was certain that the classroom brawl would make quite the topic for the Hogwarts students. Snape looked as if he had swallowed a barrel of dragon's breath.

"We can go now, professor," Luna suggested.

Ginny put a hand to her forehead. "I am feeling quite faint."

"If you could please excuse us, then, Severus." Dumbledore inclined his head. "I want a word with the pair before they leave, and I do believe that you have a class to attend to."

Snape looked as if he had smelled something sour. With a wrinkled nose, he swept from the room, slamming the door behind him. Ginny saw Luna duck her head to keep from laughing. Dumbledore surveyed the girls, his eyes twinkling.

"I think, given the extent of your injuries, you two deserve the afternoon off," he decided. "Please allow Madam Pomfrey to heal your pain, although you can leave the marks if you wish; they do add character."

The tension of the room eased, and both girls nodded. Taking his words as a dismissal, Ginny rose from her seat, turning towards the door. Luna was a few steps behind her when Dumbledore spoke again.

"Oh, and Ms. Weasley?"

Both girls stopped. Ginny's hand was on the door handle, and her heart rate picked up. Luna shot her a look, and she shook her head minutely. Dumbledore, who had not missed the exchange, smiled.

"Next time, do try and avoid the face when you stage a fight," he instructed. "Head injuries often cause me paper work."

Ginny felt her mouth pop open. Luna wore a similar expression. Then, in unison, they both grinned. Ginny opened the door. "I promise, professor. Next time, I'll aim for the arm."


	9. Inside Your Head

_Author's Note: _I was so happy at the response to the last chapter. You guys are the best! For the anonymous reviewer who asked how I pick my quotes: it really depends. Sometimes, a quote inspires a chapter. Other times, I pick one that I think explains how Ginny or another character is feeling. In the case of the quote below, it fit with the feelings Ginny experiences towards the middle of the chapter.

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

_"I was born with an enormous need for affection and a terrible need to give it." - Audrey Hepburn_

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><p>Lavender was nowhere in sight when Ginny and Luna arrived at the Hospital Wing. Ginny hoped that Parvati had convinced her to go to class, or to at least skive off and get some air instead. The walls of the Hospital Wing were suffocating with their cheerful floral wallpaper; it was almost more depressing to see flowers, flat and fading, than it would have been to see bare walls.<p>

"Oh, not more of you."

Ginny jumped, turning to face Madam Pomfrey. The matron eyed them sternly over a tray filled with instruments, each with a sharp point. "You may visit Mr. McLaggan after class, not during. I assure you that the most you will miss in the mean time is his breathing."

Ginny was about to retort when the matron froze. Her gaze wandered to the bruises on Luna's chin, to the large scratch oozing blood on Ginny's arm. Her eyes narrowed. "But you're not here for that, are you?"

"Er." Ginny glanced sideways at Luna. "Not exactly."

Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly, hurrying over to examine their wounds. The pair were immediately guided to beds, made to lie down, and then prodded and poked at for the better part of ten minutes. The girls soon found themselves confined to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey had insisted that she needed to check with Snape about "a couple of potions and such," but Ginny had a sneaky suspicion that the matron was more likely going to interrogate him about the accident.

As soon as Madam Pomfrey had bustled from the room, Ginny rounded on Luna. "So you've developed telepathy skills now?"

"I guess." Luna looked downwards, studying her bandaged hand. "It's a little odd, I suppose, but unless I'm going mad, there's another voice in my head."

Ginny waited for her to continue. When Luna remained stubbornly silent, she pulled a face. "That's it?"

"Well, he has a sense of humour." Luna leaned back against the hospital bed, resting her chin on her knees. Her misty eyes were a little dreamy as she spoke, and Ginny had to hide a smile. "I make him laugh sometimes. I can tell his mates think he's mad when he does."

Ginny's eyebrows flew to her hair. "You can see his friends?"

"Not really," Luna said quickly. "They're more like flickers of light; he won't tell me who they are. Or who he is, for that matter."

"Probably because you're not giving him any hints either," Ginny guessed, and Luna coloured. Ginny scrambled on to the bed as well, crossing her legs beneath her. "Am I right?"

"I guess we're both stubborn," Luna admitted.

"Are you talking to him right now?" she asked, hoping that this passed for a reasonable question. "I mean, is it like exchanging owls? Or is it more like a phone call?" At Luna's blank look, Ginny realized that Luna had probably never seen a telephone without having Arthur Weasley as a father, and she quickly elaborated. "I mean, can you talk to him?"

Luna frowned. "It's not quite like that, exactly. It's more like I can… feel him. I have impressions of how he's feeling. Right now, I can tell that he's frustrated because he can't figure out who I'm talking to; I won't let him see you."

Ginny grinned, leaning forward. "Any guesses as to who it is?"

She was surprised to see Luna withdraw a little. Her eyes shut briefly, and when they reopened, there were fences around them. She was guarding her words carefully. "It doesn't matter."

"Lu." Ginny reached out, placing her hand on her friend's. "You're one of my best friends; you can trust me, you know."

"You might not like what I say," Luna hedged.

Ginny kept her face even. "Try me."

"Alright." Luna threw her hands up. "I think that he's in Slytherin."

The words took a moment to register in Ginny's head. Luna was scrutinizing her reaction carefully, and it took all of Ginny's might to remain calm. She quickly squashed several responses that immediately came to her: Luna's expression was eager hope, and she didn't want to shatter it.

"Well, that's… interesting." Her voice was almost too bright. Luna's face fell, and she hurried to redeem herself. "I mean, there's bound to be a couple good ones in Slytherin, Lu."

The words still sounded fake and plastic, like the wallpaper marauding as flowers. Ginny winced; she might as well have told Luna that she hated the idea altogether. Luna offered her a small smile anyways.

"Thanks, Gin."

Ginny nodded, and although neither girl spoke, Ginny knew what they both were thinking: if Ginny was matched with a Slytherin, there was no way that she was surviving it. In fact, Ginny thought, she might just jump into the lake and join the Mer people.

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><p>"Wake up!"<p>

The words were an anxious hiss in her ear. There was yet another sharp tug on her bed sheets, and Ginny moaned. She rolled over, trying to gather the soft covers to her chest. Her hands were still weak with sleep, but she pinned them beneath her stomach. The voice swore.

"Bloody hell, Gin, I said to wake up!"

There was a pause, and then a spray of water smacked her in the face. Ginny let out a cry and then sat bolt upright in the dark. Her head collided with the roof of the bed. Cursing, she fumbled for her wand, casting a Lumos spell. A figure with wild, dirty blonde hair was leaning over her. The light caught the silver orbs of her eyes.

"Luna?" Ginny rubbed at her head. "Is that you?"

Luna's face was ashen. "It's me."

"What time is it?" Ginny demanded, continuing to rub at her head mournfully. She could feel the beginning of a lump. "And how did you get in here?"

Luna sniffed. It was hard to see in the dark, but Ginny thought that she sounded vaguely insulted. "I'm a Ravenclaw; I could break into Gringotts if I wanted to. As for the time, it's about quarter past three."

She whispered a Lumos spell, and then they were both illuminated in stark white light. Ginny squinted into the painful beam. With a groan, she buried her face in the pillow. When she spoke, her voice was muffled.

"Someone had better be dying."

"No." Luna didn't sound remotely apologetic. "But this is important."

Ginny felt her pillow wrestled out of her grasp. Luna examined it before pitching it across the room. It collided with the wardrobe, knocking over a pile of books. The pages made a _thumping _noise as they struck the floor. Ginny rolled over and on to her back, shooting Luna an irritated look.

"Couldn't this wait until morning?"

Luna shook her head. "I-"

"And good morning to you, too," Lavender chirped. The tip of Hermione's wand illuminated her in a white glow, and her hair stuck up from sleep. She didn't look particularly pleased to see them. Over on the next bed, Parvati was also sitting up, blinking sleepy eyes.

"Really, Gin," Parvati yawned. "Could you keep it down next time?"

Ginny shot an accusatory look at Luna. "I was actually hoping to still be sleeping, too."

"It was important!" Luna insisted, bringing her legs up to her chest. "It's about what happened yesterday."

She gave Ginny a meaningful look. This was perhaps not the best idea, as the interest of the other three piqued immediately; Lavender looked much more awake. She wrapped her robes around her shoulder and, after a moment of grappling for her wand, performed her own Lumos spell.

"Is this about the attack in Potions class?" she demanded. "Because I heard that you two are planning to fight to the death soon. If you are, could you please not do it in here? Blood is such a bitch to get out of the carpets-"

"It's not about the attack," Ginny interrupted. And then, after a moment's hesitation, "I mean, it sort of is. Yes, it is. Well, no. A little."

Luna let out a despairing sigh. "I suppose I'll have to explain now, won't I?"

Ginny nodded, shrugging one shoulder helplessly. Hermione looked confused, and Parvati, curious. Lavender had settled happily back against her pillows, placing her hands on her lap like a child about to be read a story. Luna immediately launched into a recount of the past events. When she had finished, Hermione frowned.

"But you must have known who it was."

"No." Luna bit her lip. "Not then, anyways."

"Not-" Ginny sat bolt upright, almost smacking her head on the roof of the bed again. "You know who it is, now, then?"

"Yes."

"And?" Lavender prompted, looking particularly excited. When Luna hesitated, the other girl pouted, clapping her hands together. "Oh, please, tell us! It was such a good story; I want to know how it ends."

"You don't have to tell us, Lu," Ginny cut in quickly. She hoped that her friend was smart enough to realize that anything she said to Lavender was likely to circulate around the school by lunch tomorrow. "If you don't want to, don't say anything."

"People will find out anyways. I might as well tell you now," Luna decided, and there was something a little sad and something like relief in her voice. She blew out a breath, and her hands began to nervously plait her hair. "It's Blaise; Blaise Zabini."

Her words were met with a shocked silence. For a moment, Ginny wondered if the other girls might have fallen asleep with their eyes open. She couldn't remember how to breathe. Luna and _Blaise_? A Slytherin was bad enough, but Blaise and Malfoy were tied at the hip. Ginny wasn't looking forward to awkward Christmas dinners at Luna's featuring the Ferret and his match.

Hermione was the first to recover. "Well, that's alright, then. Blaise isn't so bad; he lent me a quill once in class."

Ginny could tell by her voice that a professor had probably told him to do it. Hermione shot a helpless look at the others, all of whom were speechless. Ginny's head was going at about a hundred miles an hour.

"Look," Parvati said calmly. "Luna's obviously really happy with him; she's just nervous about how everyone else is going to react. But you know what? It shouldn't matter who we were before this war. It matters who we are now."

Hermione looked relieved that someone else had said the words, and she nodded fervently. "I agree. Let's give Za- Blaise a chance."

Luna looked hopefully at Ginny. "What do you think, Gin?"

Ginny felt her mouth pop open. Her heart was tearing itself in two; Zabini was undoubtedly a prat. She had played him enough times in quidditch to know that she would never like to be within ten feet of him unless it was because she was strangling him. But Ginny could also remember, with horrible clarity, the look on Luna's face in the Hospital Wing as she spoke about him: Luna believed in Blaise Zabini.

"Ginny?" Luna bit her lip. "Are you alright with it?"

Knowing full well what she had to do, Ginny sighed. "Go for it."

Luna's face lit up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Ginny confirmed, grinning at Luna's delighted expression. "So long as you're happy, then I'm happy. Besides, you'd look brilliant in a Slytherin quidditch jersey; green has always been your color."

"Liar," Luna said, reaching forward to hug her. "It's always been yours, but thank-you, anyways."

As she leaned back again, Ginny put on what she hoped to be a convincing smile. She didn't know what she thought about Luna and Zabini yet, but she knew how she felt about the timing: now, Ginny was the last one left, and it was the most horrible feeling imaginable.

* * *

><p>"Luna? With Zabini?" Katie Bell's fork hovered halfway to her mouth, which was hanging open in astonishment. "I thought that nothing was odder than Charlie and Hermione but…"<p>

The petite girl shrugged, biting into her toast. Ginny followed her example, helping herself to cereal. It wasn't as good as waffles, but it was food, nonetheless. The news of the matching had spread even faster than Ginny had anticipated, and the Great Hall was buzzing with the news at breakfast. The redhead mulled over Katie's words as she helped herself to milk.

"It is a little bizarre, isn't it?"

"Not as bizarre as her breaking into our dorm room at three in the morning," Lavender objected, plucking the milk jug neatly from Ginny's hand before she had a chance to pour it. "Merlin, we need better security."

Parvati's eyes flicked to the Ravenclaw table, where Luna sat, studiously ignoring the whispering around her. "Is it odd for them, do you think?"

"No." Ginny shook her head. "No odder than for Neville and Pansy, I think, although I suppose the mind-reading ought to be a little more difficult to get used to."

Katie choked on her pumpkin juice. "Mind reading?"

"Deep breaths, Katie," she instructed, thumping her teammate on the back. The other girl coughed even harder, spraying pumpkin juice everywhere, and Ginny laughed. "I'm sorry that George isn't here to witness how attractive this is."

Katie glared at her, spluttering as she tried to clear her throat. Angelina slid in across from them. Their captain clutched what appeared to be a catalogue in her hand, adorned with fancy script that sparkled and shimmered. Angelina raised her eyebrows when she caught sight of Katie.

"I'd be more alarmed if this wasn't so normal," she said, amused.

Katie was turning an odd tomato color. "Go – to hell."

"Someone's in a bad temper." Angelina made a _tsking _sound, waggling a finger. She rounded on Ginny next. "I was wondering where Katie had got to; you stole my bridal-shopping partner!"

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Isn't that supposed to be your fiancé?"

As if to punctuate her words, Fred entered the hall, flanked by Lee Jordan and George. They were all sporting what looked like joke hats that squawked and occasionally dislodged large quantities of feathers. Angelina sighed, scrunching up her nose.

"You know Fred," she said fondly. "All he would want is for my wedding gown to turn into a large, stuffed parrot halfway through the ceremony. Anyways, I'd much rather ask Katie for help."

"Or a future sister-in-law?" Ginny asked pointedly.

"Touche," Angelina said wryly.

She pushed the catalogue she was holding across the table. Ginny scanned it briefly; the cover featured a witch and a wizard holding hands at an altar, surrounded by fields of daisies. The girl was smiling coyly at the camera, and occasionally, the boy winked. Fancy cursive scrawl beneath them read _Be Beautiful! Be Marvelous! Be… Magical. _

"You can't be serious," Ginny said.

Angelina snatched the pamphlet back before Ginny even had the chance to open it. She leafed through it with the skill of one well practiced, pointing to various gowns. "I'm thinking white, the traditional kind, with gold accents."

Katie, who had finally recovered from her fit, nodded approvingly. "That will compliment your skin tone really well."

"We'll blow it all out of proportion." Angelina punctuated her words with grand hand gestures. "Nothing too fancy, of course, but I was hoping for an enchanted dance floor. And maybe a gold-and-orange theme, although I have no idea how I would ever get Fred to agree…"

Angelina trailed off thoughtfully, contemplating an image that only she appeared to be able to see. Katie shot Ginny a despairing look. The girls were interrupted by the arrival of George. He kissed Katie on top of the head, making her blush, before dropping into the seat next to her.

"What won't Fred agree to?" he asked.

"Angelina's discussing wedding plans," Katie confessed, rolling her eyes at the traitorous look that Angelina gave her. "Oh, come on, Ange, the best man has a right to know. Besides, if you choose orange, it will clash horribly with his hair, and then neither of us can go."

George, who looked both pleased and amused that Katie had decided that the two were going together, helped himself to kippers with his left hand. Ginny noticed that his other was entwined with Katie's beneath the table.

"I suppose Fred couldn't come either, then," Angelina sighed, sounding quite disappointed. "Is it possible to have a wedding without the groom? I really do love the color orange."

"We can always get married instead," Katie suggested, grinning. "I hear that I look fabulous in orange."

"You look fabulous in anything," George told her.

Katie blushed, and he kissed the tip of her nose, making her laugh. Angelina looked slightly disgusted. Ginny felt similarly nauseous, and she mimed vomiting into her breakfast cereal. She was relieved when the two finished. George bit thoughtfully into Katie's toast.

"Anyways, Fred's a touchy little bugger," he said, mouth full. "It might be best to avoid bringing up the subject altogether."

Just as George had finished speaking, Fred slid on to the bench, taking his usual spot next to Angelina. With chaser reflexes, Angelina snatched the pamphlet off the table, and it disappeared into her bag. Unfortunately, Fred hadn't missed George's comment.

"What's better to avoid?" he asked.

George, who had never been very good at lying, inclined his head slightly towards Angelina. The dark-haired girl scowled. "George!"

But the damage was done; the top of the catalogue was peeking from Angelina's book bag, and Fred caught sight of it. He smiled slyly, and his hand darted out to grab it. Luckily, Angelina was quicker, and she pinned his hand to the table with a sweet smile.

"Sorry, darling."

"What is it?" Fred asked.

"I'll never tell," Angelina promised. Then, after a moment's consideration, "Well, I will, but only in about nine months."

Fred, who had taken a large forkful of hash, made a choking sound. He spit out the food, as if it had burned him. His blue eyes were wide. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

Angelina looked horrified. "Of course not."

"Oh," Fred said sheepishly. "Sorry. I just thought-"

"I would have told you, you prat!" Angelina complained, thwacking him on the shoulder with a nearby spoon. "I was talking about our wedding."

"Wait a second." George was grinning from ear-to-ear, as if he was a cat that had just discovered a particularly delicious mouse. "You mean to say that there could even be the _possibility _of a little Fred junior on the way?"

"George!" Katie reprimanded, although she was smiling, too.

Angelina looked mortified. "Well, we- I mean to say that we-"

"There are children here!" Fred protested.

All eyes shot to Ginny. Fred reached out to clamp his hands over her ears, giving George a look that reminded Ginny of their mother. Rolling her eyes, Ginny shrugged him off.

"I'm not five, Fred," she said irritably.

But Fred's attention had already returned to George. His hands were toying idly with a spoon, but his expression was vindictive. "Ask me that again, brother mine, and I swear that I'll tell Katie about the chocolate pudding incident."

George looked horrified. "We were eleven!"

"Exactly." Fred shook his head mournfully. "How young your innocence was ruined. Wouldn't it be a shame for Katie to find out exactly how you-"

"Okay!" George spluttered. "You've got me."

Somewhat reluctantly, he stuck out his hand towards his twin. Looking relieved, Fred seized it, shaking it with a grin. Angelina was watching the exchange warily, and Katie, with amusement. And Ginny knew that, at least for now, the subject was forgotten.

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	10. The Beginning

_Author's Note: _I'm posting this at three in the morning, so there might be a million spelling mistakes and awkward run on sentences. I apologize! I'm eighty percent delirious and running off of caffeinated tea

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

_"Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end: then stop." - Lewis Carroll_

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><p>"Ginny, come quickly!"<p>

The voice was urgent and filled with a tinge of panic. Ginny whirled around, her heart speeding up. Katie was wide-eyed, and she bounced up and down on her toes to see above the rush of students in the corridor. Immediately, Ginny ran through a list of possibilities: was George in trouble? No, Katie would be with him. Fred, then? She had seen him only this morning.

"What is it?" Ginny pushed through the students, seizing Katie's arm. "What's happened?"

Her body was tense, and she was prepared to ditch her books by a nearby suit of armour: she wasn't going to make it to Transfiguration, anyways. Her hand was already reaching for her wand, an accustomed action from the war.

"Nothing's wrong," Katie assured her. And then, with a smile, "Actually, it's quite the opposite: Cormac's going to wake up."

Ginny's shoulders relaxed. "He's okay?"

"He's stirring," Katie informed her. "The entire quidditch team has been excused to see him, as well as Lavender."

Ginny immediately felt sorry for Madam Pomfrey: Lavender was probably beside herself. She had been hysterical for the past few weeks, and Ginny knew that her friend would likely refuse to leave Cormac's side, even if the matron needed to administer potions.

"We'd better hurry, then," Ginny announced.

The two girls tore through the corridor, pushing past groups of lagging seventh-years. Ginny threw her books at Luna as the two passed the Charms classroom, promising to explain later before continuing at break-neck pace. They burst through the double doors in record time.

"You made it!" Angelina crowed.

Ginny almost tripped over Lavender's makeshift camp bed. Her cheeks felt hot, and she was panting and out of breath. "Is he awake yet?"

"Soon," Angelina promised. "Anyways, I'm glad that you're here: I don't speak Lavender, and we need someone who does."

Ginny followed her quidditch captain's gaze to where Lavender was pacing around and around the room. She was muttering under her breath, and her face was the white color of parchment. Her hair was a mess, either from neglect or abuse, and her robe was crinkled.

"Lavender?" Ginny approached cautiously. "Are you alright?"

"Ginny!"

The other girl let out a cry, launching herself at Ginny. The redhead barely had time to catch her. Lavender clung tightly to her neck, and she was shaking like a frightened animal. Ginny led her to a nearby armchair, where she collapsed, burying her face in her hands.

"I have no idea what to do," she moaned. "Cormac's going to wake up any moment now according to Madam Pomfrey: it's a disaster!"

"Er." Ginny frowned. "I thought we wanted him to wake up?"

"Oh, we do!" Lavender's eyes were filled with tears, and she took deep, shuddering breaths. "But he almost certainly won't remember a thing, Ginny. He won't know that we were matched, or that I camped out here all week, or that I read to him sometimes… I'll be a stranger to him."

"I'm sure that's not true," Ginny contradicted her. "Didn't you say that you had potions with him last year?"

"Potions." Lavender's voice was bitter. "He'll remember me from potions. That's just bloody brilliant. Merlin, Ginny, I look like a wreck and he's going to remember me covered in frog guts!"

Ginny winced. Lavender's hair did have a tendency to frizz when near a cauldron, and she didn't doubt that her friend had spilled numerous ingredients on herself last year. Currently, she doubted that Lavender had slept or showered in the past week. Ginny decided to tactfully avoid the subject.

"It's going to be fine, Lav," she reassured her, putting a bracing hand on her shoulder. Ginny desperately wished that Parvati were here, and she tried to wrack her brains as to what the other girl would say if she were. "You know what? I bet that he fancies you anyways."

Apparently, she had said the right thing, because Lavender's eyes lit up with hope. "Do you really think so?"

Ginny swallowed past the rising desire to run away. "Sure."

"How do you know?"

"Well…" Desperately, she wracked her brains for any shred of evidence that Cormac fancied Lavender. Suddenly, it came to her. "Remember that time he climbed all the way up that tree just to get your wand? He went out of his way to rescue it for you."

Ginny decided not to mention the fact that Cormac had probably made that part up, and simply used a summoning spell. Lavender nodded, smiling through the tears. "I do! He told me afterwards that he-"

She broke off as Cormac made a muffled sound on the bed next to them. Immediately, all conversation stopped. Eight heads snapped towards the sleeping boy. Lavender let out something like a strangled gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. Ginny watched with bated breath as Cormac groaned. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open.

"What happened?" he asked groggily. He winced, gingerly touching his head. "Did I fall? I remember there was this pain… is Lavender okay?"

At her name, Lavender made a small noise somewhere in between a sob and a terrified squeak. Harry leaned forward, breaking from the pack so that Cormac could see him. "You fell from your broom. How much do you remember?"

"I remember falling; I remember that the ground wasn't particularly pleasant." Cormac winced, adjusting the bandages on his head. "Merlin, that stings."

"And then?" Harry prompted.

"And then…" Cormac trailed off, looking embarrassed at all the attention. "And then I remember that-" He cut off, suddenly looking alarmed. "I remember it all. Where's Lavender? Is she here?"

This time, a hint of panic had entered his voice. Hiding a smile, Ginny stepped back, giving Lavender a little push. Her friend had gone an uncharacteristic shade of pink. Cormac grinned at her. Slowly, he held up a hand, revealing the turquoise slash knit into the flesh of his palm. Lavender raised her hand as well.

"We match," she said softly.

Cormac smiled cheekily. "Looks better on you, though."

The team watched for a moment as the two looked at one another, both at a loss for words. Angelina gave a small, musical cough. Pointedly, she stood up, stretching her arms.

"Well, it looks like you're in good hands, McLaggan," she said. "Practice is Thursday morning, injured or not. In the mean time, I'll just be going…"

With a fond tug on Fred's arm and a quick good-bye peck on his cheek, she and Katie gathered their book bags and left. Fred and George followed them shortly. Harry waited a few minutes before excusing himself as well, claiming that he needed to find Padma Patil. Ginny soon found herself quite alone with only Cormac and Lavender.

"Well, then." Ginny grinned at Lavender. "I suppose I'll just see you in the common room later?"

Lavender nodded. She turned from Cormac for only a moment, long enough to smile at Ginny. It was radiant, and for a moment, Ginny could have sworn that the flower wallpaper bloomed. "Yeah." And then, just loud enough for only Ginny to hear, "Thank-you."

As Ginny shut the doors behind her, she caught the faintest glimpse of two heads bent together, and she smiled.

* * *

><p>Ginny hastily kicked the door of the toilet shut in the dorm room. The elated squeals of Padma Patil dimmed in volume, allowing her a blissful reprieve. She sighed as, a moment later, a particularly high-pitched giggle breached the barrier she had created. No doubt, Padma had launched into yet another tale of her match.<p>

It had come as a shock to all of Hogwarts that Harry Potter had been matched with Padma Patil. Rita Skeeter had a field day, printing off dozens of articles in the span of two hours. It was the juiciest topic of the week.

Ginny picked up her hairbrush, running it through her coppery strands. It seemed as if all of Hogwarts had been matched by now: Padma was in love with Harry after a total of three hours, and Parvati and Michael held hands every chance they got. Even Hermione and Charlie no longer received strange looks when the pair took wands around the lake.

Ginny exhaled, pulling the brush faster through her hair with every stroke. Neville and Pansy no longer despised one another, and Katie and George were bound to be engaged any day now. Hell, Fred and Angelina were going to be married! Even Lavender had gotten her happy ending.

Ginny set down the brush, frowning at it. She knew that she ought to be happy for everyone, but it felt as if she was attending a party in jeans that was full of exciting ball gowns and dresses. She hadn't had the chance to talk to Luna about Zabini yet – _Blaise_, she mentally berated herself – but from what she had observed, the two were already quite happy.

Ginny bit her lip, pulling her hair back into a messy bun. Today was the sixth day of the week, which meant that there was only one day left, and the stock in boys was growing woefully short. Almost everyone was paired and discussing their plans for the upcoming ball, which was a topic that Ginny could contribute little to.

She leaned against the cool, bathroom mirror. Her aching forehead felt a little better, and Ginny sighed. Her breath fogged up the glass surface. A gentle knock startled her out of her cocoon, and then a voice called out.

"Ginny?" Parvati sounded as if she was smiling. "Padma's gone. You don't have to hide in the toilet anymore."

"I'm not hiding!" Frantically, Ginny grabbed the brush off the counter. She pushed open the door, waving the brush in Parvati's face. "I was brushing my hair, if you must know."

Parvati looked like she was trying not to laugh. "Your hair is in a bun."

"Oh." She touched her hair sheepishly. "Well, I was before."

Parvati made a knowing sound. Ginny coloured and, scowling, crossed her arms over her chest. Laughing, Parvati ushered her out of the toilet. "Sorry, Gin, your time is up: Padma told me that I need to fix my eyebrow charm. Apparently, it's crooked."

As if to demonstrate her point, she raised one eyebrow sharply. Ginny shook her head exasperatedly, pushing past her friend. "You're lucky that I love you."

Parvati was already shutting the door. "I know!"

"And don't stay up too late!" she called, already crawling into her bed. "You're grouchy when you do. In bed in the next thirty minutes; I mean it, Parvati."

"Oh, all right," the other girl sighed. "But if my eyebrows look terrible tomorrow, I'll never forgive you."

* * *

><p>"Are you ready?" Luna asked.<p>

The two girls sat outside on the castle steps. The autumn sunlight cast shadows on the marble, and the trees threw patterns across Luna's face. The breeze was warm, and Ginny could hear the call of birds in the distance.

"I can't do this," she confessed, leaning back so that she was lying more comfortably on the stone. The bright sunlight pierced her eyes, and she threw a hand over her head. "I have a bad feeling about today."

"Really?" Luna sounded surprised. "I don't think I've ever seen you nervous before a quidditch match."

"I know," she sighed. Orange and yellow light painted the back of her eyelids. "And it sounds mad, but I really feel like something's going to go wrong."

"You might feel better if you ate breakfast."

Luna's voice was pointed, but Ginny shook her head, refusing to bite. "It's not from hunger. It's just a feeling that I have, somewhere near my gut."

"There's not much that you can do about it anyways; Angelina might kill you if you don't show up."

"I have high hopes that Fred might be able to stop her." Ginny rested her free hand on her stomach. The steady rise and fall of her own breath helped to calm her, but the butterflies in her stomach continued to swoop, hollowing her. "Besides, she needs me in order to play: I'm too valuable to kill."

The girls sat in silence for a moment. Ginny could already hear the crowd filtering into the pitch. Their excited chatter carried across the lawn, amplified by the lake between them. They must have left breakfast early to steal the good seats. Ginny imagined that they carried stacks of toast and pastries with them.

"You're being matched today, you know," Luna said.

"Believe me, I know." Ginny sat up, stretching her legs across the steps. "I haven't forgotten about it all morning."

"It's not so bad." Luna played with a nearby flower, growing out of the stone wall. It was a bright red, the same color as Ginny's hair. "The anticipation is what kills you."

"Speaking of matches," Ginny said, suddenly feeling quite guilty for not asking beforehand, "how are things with Blaise?"

"Wonderful." Luna looked quite pleased that Ginny had addressed him by his first name. She smiled fondly at the flower. "We have a bet on the match today: he's got a galleon on a win to Slytherin, and I've matched him with a win to Gryffindor."

"He's choosing _Malfoy's _side?" Ginny demanded incredulously. "Merlin, I thought that Slytherin's were supposed to be cunning. Surely he knows that Harry will catch the snitch?"

Luna tilted her head back, allowing the sun to warm her face. Ginny swore that she was smirking. "My, what confidence you have!"

"Because I'm right."

"Maybe you are," Luna conceded. "I suppose, in the end, we side with our friends no matter what. I'm siding with you; Blaise is siding with Draco."

"_Draco_?" Ginny sat bolt upright, her eyes flying wide. "You're on a first name basis now?"

"Yes, I am," Luna said calmly.

Ginny made a choking noise. "_Why_?"

"You try talking to Blaise for a while and not calling Draco by his last name!" she challenged, and Ginny noticed that she was flushing faintly. "I swear to Merlin, the two of them are one person."

Ginny leaned backwards once more. When she lay down, her stomach hurt less with nerves. It felt as if serpents had coiled themselves beneath her skin, wrapping tighter and tighter around her organs. Her gut was being forced up into her chest. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her, and her heart began to pound uncomfortably in her chest.

"Luna," she said, "did your stomach hurt before you knew that it was Blaise?"

Luna's eyes turned sympathetic. "No. Sorry, Gin."

"S'okay." Ginny smiled bravely. She had been expecting it, but it still stung; it seemed like the closer she got to discovering who she was matched with, the farther she was from actually figuring it out. "It was a long shot."

"Well, if it's not that," Luna said, "it must be the hunger pains." She stood, brushing off her trousers, before offering a hand to Ginny. "Come on, quidditch superstar. It's time for breakfast."

* * *

><p><strong>Please leave me a review!<strong>


	11. Literally Into the Light

_Author's Note_: I'll warn you in advance that the beginning of this chapter is a little word heavy, but it's important to read! There's a few details in there that are important for understanding later chapters

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>

_"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." - Emily Bronte_

* * *

><p>Ginny swallowed nervously, scowling through the storm. She mentally urged her broom to go faster; her hands were frozen stiff to the wood. It didn't matter at this point that they were playing the Slytherins: the weather had become the real opposition. The rain was pouring down in icy sheets, soaking through her jersey. Red hair was plastered to her face. Ginny groaned, trying desperately to encourage her broom to move. She flew directly beneath what she assumed to be Katie; in truth, she was merely following blurs of color and hoping that she had enough sense to tell red and green apart.<p>

A crack of lightening split the sky, making her jump. She slipped a little, and her hands clung tightly to the broom. An object was dropped towards her. Startled, Ginny jerked backwards, forcing her hands to reach towards the quaffle. The ball was slick with rain, and after a moment of fumbling, she latched on to it. Her broom turned in the direction of the Slytherin end.

Ginny could make out the faint calls of spectators below, the majority of whom were urging her on vigorously. She dodged an advancing green blur deftly, sweeping unexpectedly to the side. The quaffle left her hands, sailing beautifully into the left hoop, and she let out a whoop of excitement if only because no one could hear her. Gryffindor was up by twenty points, now, thanks in part to a particularly good throw by what she thought was Angelina. Still, it would be better to catch the snitch sooner rather than later. Ginny hoped that Harry knew what he was doing, or else they would all freeze to their brooms soon. She swivelled her broom around, squinting to see through the rain.

The two blurs appeared out of nowhere, streaking towards her at lightening speed, a tornado of green and red. They were solely focused on a glint of gold to the left of her head. Ginny screamed, trying to roll out of the path of the seekers, but both were intent on their goal. The red blur seemed to realize that she was there at the last second; with a yell, he pulled away. The green one hit her straight on. Ginny let out a shriek as his weight collided with hers, and she tumbled off the broom.

There was a hoarse yell.

And then she was falling, falling, falling and the rain whirled crazily around her like exploding stars and then all was dark.

* * *

><p>For the second time, Ginny woke to a splitting headache. She moaned, clutching at her head before realizing that it hurt to move her arms, too. Gingerly, she peeled open her eyes. Hermione sat beside her bed, her brown eyes wide and anxious. Lavender, Parvati, and the rest of the team were there as well, each looking as if he or she had gone for a dip in the lake.<p>

"She's awake!" Hermione leaned forward, obscuring her vision. "How are you feeling, Gin?"

"Rotten; a bit like I was battered by the Whomping Willow, actually." Ginny tried to smile, and she felt her upper lip split. She could taste blood in her mouth. Belatedly, she noticed their sodden trainers, pooling water on the floor. "Madam Pomfrey's going to kill you for dragging all that mud in here."

"She left a while ago," Hermione informed her. "To tell your parents that you're still alive. They were quite worried."

Ginny frowned. "Why? What happened?"

"You don't remember?" When Ginny shook her head, Hermione paled. Her hair was frizzing from the rain, and when she turned to look at Harry, it hid her face. "Do you want to explain to her what happened?"

Her voice was tight. Harry's face said that he'd much rather not, and Ginny growled low in her throat. "Someone had better explain it."

"Alright, alright." Harry elbowed his way through the pack, all of who were being uncharacteristically quiet. Harry's face was drawn. "We were in the middle of the match – do you remember that part, Gin?"

"Yeah." She waved impatiently at him. "Go on."

"Well, you had just scored for the second time-"

"Hold on." Ginny sat up straighter, ignoring the stab of pain through her abdomen. "I only scored once."

"You scored twice," Harry recounted, and judging by the worried looks on her teammate's faces, he was right. "The snitch was so close to you, by the goals, and Malfoy and I were too focused…" He winced, and his hand tightened on the bedpost. "We hit you, Gin. Or at least, Malfoy did; I rolled out of the way at the last second."

When she spoke, her voice was deadly calm. "Did he catch it?"

"Did he-" Harry frowned. "Ginny…"

"The snitch," Ginny said icily. "Did Malfoy catch the snitch?"

There was a beat of silence. Then, Harry nodded. Ginny mentally counted to ten. Rage was creeping up her veins, gnawing at her skin, and it threatened to consume her. Incoherent thoughts flitted through her head: most of them involved strangling Malfoy with his own victory banner.

"Ginny?" Lavender took a hesitant step forward. "Say something."

She looked at Lavender blankly. That was exactly how she felt: blank. A fresh sheet, wiped of any emotion, ready to write a hundred cruel words, to destroy and burn everything. Something in her face was have seemed just a little too calm, because Cormac took a protective step towards his girlfriend.

"Say something?" Ginny repeated quietly.

"Er." Lavender looked frightened. "Yes?"

"_Say something_?" she snapped, pushing away the bed covers. "Are you kidding me right now? I am going to find Malfoy, and I'm going to kill him! Or bat bogey hex him; possibly, both."

Ginny struggled to her feet, ignoring the pounding in her head. Immediately, the entire team sprung to life. Katie pinned down her feet, and Harry and Cormac seized both of her arms. Angelina knelt in front of her.

"No!" she commanded. "Ginny, stop it." When Ginny tried to rip away from her makeshift restraints, Angelina blocked her. "Fred, back me up!"

"Sorry, Gin." Fred copied his fiancee's move. "I like you in one piece."

With a scowl, Ginny wiggled out of their grasps. She ducked beneath Fred's arm, hurrying to where her clothes hung, drying, across the room. The hospital gown she wore was itchy, and the skin at her neck felt open and sore.

"You can't stop me!" she declared. "I want Malfoy in more than one piece."

Ginny snatched her clothes, darting into an unused changing room. Fred made a grab for her, but she shut the curtains, tearing off her shirt. Fred must have sensed that she was changing because he grumbled, beginning to pace outside the curtain. His silhouette doubled, and Ginny realized that George had joined them.

"We can slip him a puking pastel tomorrow," he offered. "Ten of them, if you'd like."

"No way." Ginny pulled on jeans hastily, fiddling with the buttons. Her hand was still sore, and she cursed under her breath, guiding the round button through the loophole. "I'm going now."

She ignored the desperate calls of her teammates outside. She heard Hermione say something about fetching Charlie. Katie murmured something in response, and Ginny heard the fragment _closer to Ron _drifting over the change room barrier.

"Honestly, I'm going!" Ginny yanked open the curtains viciously. "No one's going to stop me: not Charlie, and not even Ron."

Ginny threw her hospital robes onto a nearby bed, storming towards the door. She heard footsteps behind her, and then Parvati was clinging on to her arm, latching on tightly enough that Ginny was forced to look at her.

"Listen," she said. "Do you know how awful Malfoy feels about this? He's beside himself with guilt! I've never seen him so upset." Parvati hesitated, taking a deep breath. "Please, Gin, I don't like him either. But I do like you, and I wouldn't ever lie to you."

For a second, Ginny was tempted to listen to her. Parvati's dark eyes were wide, and there wasn't a shred of insincerity on her face. But even if she trusted Parvati, that didn't mean she trusted Malfoy: he was a Slytherin, and a master manipulator. He probably had all of Hogwarts convinced that she had leaped dramatically from her broom as he tried to save her. After all, this was Draco sodding Malfoy: someone had to deal with him.

"I'm going," Ginny decided, wrenching her arm away from Parvati. "And if anyone tries to stop me, I'll hex you, too."

* * *

><p>It was dinner by the time that Ginny left the Hospital Wing, a full two hours since the match had ended. Most students would be eating in the Hall. Ginny had no doubt that they were all speculating and replaying the exciting events of the match. Well, if they had thought that was exciting, what a treat Ginny was going to give them.<p>

She pushed open the doors to the Great Hall, her eyes immediately scanning the Slytherin table for platinum blond hair. He wasn't difficult to find: he looked exhausted. His hair was rumpled and still damp from the rain, and there were red splotches around his eyes. Blaise seemed to be trying to say something to him, but Malfoy was pointedly ignoring him, playing with a bowl of soup.

Ginny strode towards where they sat. With every seat she passed, heads turned, and a trail of whispers followed her. Blaise caught sight of her first. His eyes darted to where Luna sat, and the two seemed to share a thought. Then, Blaise shook his head at Ginny, almost imperceptibly.

She almost laughed; if Blaise was trying to save face, he was fighting a losing battle. Ginny was going to put Draco Malfoy in his place, and she was going to enjoy doing it. She reached the table quickly, coming to stand in front of the pair. Her shoes echoed on the stone floor. The entire Hall had fallen silent to listen. Ginny let the rage fuel her.

"Explain yourself, Malfoy," she barked.

The boy looked up slowly. His face was carefully neutral, as if she had the sudden feeling that the two were in a play that he had created, sculpted every line and possible scenario. When he spoke, the words had an almost rehearsed quality to them.

"I can't," he said.

That was it: Ginny broke. Something inside her gave way, and bitter anger surged through her, hot and alive. Before she was fully aware of what was happening, she had launched herself at him, blindly punching and kicking. Malfoy made no move to defend himself, and he stiffened as the pair collided with the floor. Ginny punched him a solid one in the cheek.

The Hall erupted with sounds at the contact. Students jumped to their feet, cheering and screaming and shouting. Ginny threw herself on top of the boy and, wand forgotten, kneed him in the chest. She used the full force of her weight to her advantage. With a scream of frustration, she whacked at his chest. It infuriated her that he wouldn't fight back.

As she drew back to hit Malfoy a fourth time, blinding light exploded. Her hand felt hot and tingly, and it took Ginny a moment to realize that the ray was coming from her. Ginny stopped hitting out, immediately nervous. She had been mostly joking about actually wanting to kill Malfoy; but her wand wasn't in her hand, and she had never seen this type of magic before.

Before she had the chance to jump off of him, another light flew from between them, even brighter than the last. Several students shielded their eyes. Ginny watched in amazement as it riccocheted off the wall, exploding off the golden plates on the table. Malfoy looked at his own hand, startled.

"What the-"

Dozens of lights began to fill the Hall, colliding and bouncing with one another. They shone much brighter than any sun, causing many students to frantically cast visibility charms. Ginny leapt off of Malfoy, examining her body: it was encased in an ethereal glow, and the lights felt pleasantly warm. And yet, a sense of horror filled her. She wasn't sure what everyone else was seeing, but Ginny knew very well what this meant.

She and Draco Malfoy had been matched.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review! <strong>They've been matched at last! Any initial thoughts?


	12. The Assessment

_Author's Note: _Definitely some mixed responses going on, but it was lovely to hear from all of you! I knew originally that Ginny and Draco weren't going to be friends by the time that they were matched; it takes a while to work around the prejudices that they both have!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve<strong>

_"The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution." - J.K. Rowling_

* * *

><p>"Ginny? Let me in!"<p>

Parvati's voice floated through the gap above the bedroom door. There was a pause; then, the anxious pounding of a fist began again. Ginny gave a small hiccup, trying to breathe normally. Her eyes strayed to the mirror across from her bed: a small girl with splotchy eyes and a red face stared back at her. Her lips were raw and pinched. Ginny winced.

"I can't," she moaned, wrenching her gaze away. "Just go away."

Parvati rapped on the door again. "Come on, Ginny. I don't care if you look a mess; I don't care if you don't want to talk. You need someone right now."

"This is a disaster." Ginny stared blankly at her hands. They were still scratched from her fall, and the knuckles had split. The skin was still glowing softly. "I'm never leaving this room. I just want to forget all about today."

Parvati knocked more sharply. Ginny could tell that the other girl was losing her patience. When she spoke, her voice was a warning. "Ginny Weasley, I will knock this door down."

"It's not too late to join the Mer people," Ginny said, ignoring her friend's threat. She flexed her glowing fingers irritably. "I can make good on my promise. Do you think they need a human torch down there?"

Parvati made a tired noise. "Gin, do you know who sent me?"

Ginny swallowed. "No."

"Luna sent me," Parvati said. She had stopped knocking, and the echoing silence fell between them like sheets of sharp glass. "She sent me because she figured that you wouldn't want to talk to her."

"Why?" Ginny asked hoarsely.

"Because." The door creaked as Parvati leaned against it. "She's with a Slytherin, and not just any Slytherin: Blaise Zabini."

Ginny's throat squeezed. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" Parvati shot back. "You've been in here for six hours now, Ginny. It's not that far of a stretch for Luna to think that you wouldn't want to see her."

Ginny grimaced. She pictured Luna sitting on the steps earlier that morning, her blonde curls shining in the sunlight. She had been wearing Gryffindor colors, to support Ginny. She always supported Ginny. A niggle of guilt squirmed into the pit of her stomach and, before she could change her mind, Ginny leapt off the bed and pulled the door open a sliver.

"Do you promise not to be disappointed in me?" she asked weakly.

Parvati crossed her arms. "Why would I be?"

"I don't know." Ginny shrugged. "We were matched for a reason."

"None of this is your fault, Gin," Parvati said, and this time, her voice had softened. Through the crack of the doorway, Ginny could see that she was biting her lip. "It's okay to cry, you know. You're not indestructible."

It was exactly what her mother would have said to her. To her horror, Ginny felt the back of her eyes burn. Quickly, she wrenched the door open. Parvati slipped into the room, blinking at the bright light coming from Ginny. Parvati squinted to see past the glow, and her eyes widened.

"You should have let me in earlier," she scolded. "How are you?"

Ginny winced. "It just… wasn't what I expected."

Parvati sunk down on to one of the beds. She patted the spot beside her, and Ginny sat down wordlessly, resting her head on her friend's shoulder. Parvati stroked her hair methodically. "Tell me."

"Well, I always thought that I _had_ to hate Malfoy." She took a deep, steadying breath, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Even before I went to Hogwarts, Ron used to come home and talk about him. He used to tell me these awful stories: Malfoy cursing girls in the classroom, and Malfoy murdering sparrows."

Parvati squeezed her shoulder. "And?"

"I believed him at first," Ginny admitted. "He was my brother: I thought that he was always right. But now… I mean, do you think anyone ever asked Malfoy if he wanted to be a death eater, Parvati? Do you think that he had a choice? I don't know. I honestly don't know, and it terrifies me."

Parvati shifted her weight so that Ginny was looking at her. "I still don't understand why you're hiding in here."

"Seriously?" Ginny looked at her friend incredulously. "The last time I was out there, I almost beat Malfoy to death with my bare hands. I'm worried I might have a second go at it."

"Go confront him," Parvati urged. "You'll never know until-"

"I'll end up killing him."

"Well," Parvati sighed, "that will certainly put a damper on the wedding."

The dark-haired girl flopped back on the bed, her arms flying wide. She had to squint when she looked up at Ginny. With a long exhalation, Ginny fell back as well, and the bed rocked beneath them. She turned her head sideways so that the two were eye-to-eye.

"As soon as I go out there, everyone will stare," she said. "I'm not exactly inconspicuous right now."

"Well, people were a little shocked." Parvati fidgeted with her hands. "I'm sure that most of it has died down by now."

They both knew that she was lying, but it was nice of her to try, and Ginny kicked her lightly with her foot. Then, she sighed, wrapping her arms around her head. "What will I tell my family? Our friends?"

"Our friends are more concerned about you than anything else," Parvati reminded her. "Ron was… understandably upset, but Hannah's talking to him. I think he'll be all right after a night's rest. Charlie offered to write to your mum for you."

Ginny gritted her teeth. "And Malfoy?"

"He won't come out of the common room." Parvati grimaced. "According to Blaise, he's been staring into the fire for hours now. Even Pansy's yelling wasn't enough to drive him out. According to Neville, he threw a vase at her."

Ginny surprised herself by laughing. She peeked through her arms. "I suppose I had better learn to like him, haven't I? If we're going to be married some day."

"One day at a time," Parvati advised. "We have those couple assessments tomorrow, and a scheduled activity the next day; nobody's looking at wedding dresses yet. Well, maybe Angelina."

The last bit was spoken with a tone of disgust, and Ginny laughed again. It felt good to giggle, and the feeling warmed her chest, tingling in her toes and fingers. "In the mean time, I'll try not to murder Malfoy while someone is looking."

Parvati ruffled her hair. "There's the Ginny that I know," she said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Strong and determined."

"I don't know about that." Ginny mimicked her, sitting up. She could feel her hair sticking up at odd angles, but she didn't try to smooth it. "Maybe not all the time."

Parvati smiled. "But most. Definitely, most."

* * *

><p>Ginny sat outside the greenhouse, her back resting against a tree. The late Autumn sun lanced off the glass, throwing a pattern of light over the field. She sighed, running her fingers through her tangle of red curls. Couple assessments had started today; from what Ginny had heard, they were fairly simple and easy to pass. That was, provided you didn't want to strangle the person sitting next to you, which was unfortunately not true in her case.<p>

"Stalking me, Weasley? It was cute at first: now, it's becoming annoying."

The voice was soft and cutting. Ginny gritted her teeth. She forced herself to turn around slowly, breathing in until she thought her lungs would burst. She would not, under any circumstances, lose her temper.

"I came here to talk, Malfoy," she said crisply.

The blond boy was lounging against a nearby tree. His hair was almost translucent in the sunlight, and it painted him in shades of gold and brown. He had a smudge of dirt on his forehead from the greenhouse.

"Don't think we're mates now, Weaselette," Malfoy drawled. "You can't just call me up for a cuppa anytime it fits your fancy. I have a busy schedule: it involves avoiding you."

Ginny bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from retorting. After a few seconds of silence, she spoke, her words careful and even. "I found you to tell you that we-"

"You found me?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow, amused. "So you admit that you really are stalking me."

Ginny wanted to smack him. "Yes, Luna told me where Zabini was so that I could find you. But I only did it so that I can get away from you."

"Hang on." Malfoy looked on the verge of laughter. "Now your excuse is that you're stalking me to get away from me? That was a poor attempt, even for you, Weasley."

It was the straw that broke the camel's back: Ginny leapt to her feet, striding towards him. Anger was burning beneath her skin, and she could feel rage sizzling in her veins, like a kettle set on the stove to boil. She wanted to seize him. She wanted to shake his shoulders until he lost that smug little smile.

Instead, Ginny smiled sweetly. "Look here, Malfoy. If you want to keep both of your arms, you'll show up at couple's assessment with a bouquet of roses. You'll talk about how amazing I am, and how much you love me."

"How narcissistic," he noted.

"This isn't funny!" Ginny smacked his arm, hard. "We're going to pass this assessment with flying colors, which means that you, Draco Malfoy, are going to become a supportive boyfriend."

Malfoy smirked. "You work up quite the temper, don't you?"

Ginny scowled. "Only when you're around."

"All right." Malfoy shrugged. His tie was loose around his neck, and his hand played with the end of it, almost thoughtlessly. "What does being a supportive boyfriend entail?"

Ginny smiled involuntarily. "You have to hold open doors for me. No magic allowed," she added, seeing the sly look on his face. "And you have to carry my things for me."

Malfoy looked disgruntled. "Can't you carry your own bloody things? It probably has loads of germs."

"Nope," Ginny said, delighted at the look of horror on his face. "If you want to pass, you'll do it for me."

"Can't I just buy you things?" he sighed.

"Nice try." Ginny began to walk towards the castle. At the top of the hill, she twisted around, calling over her shoulder. "Third floor at two. If you're late or without flowers, I'll cut off your leg."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Will do, Your Majesty."

* * *

><p>Ginny paced the corridor anxiously, listening to the voices drifting from the assessment room. They were muffled enough that she couldn't quite make out the words, but loud enough to taunt her. The suspense had become a heavy weight on her shoulders. Ginny closed her eyes briefly, slumping against a nearby wall.<p>

"Tired? Or are all you Gryffs really that out of shape?"

Across from her, Malfoy was wearing his trademark smirk. There were smudges beneath his eyes from lack of sleep, and his nails were bitten down to the quick, but he held himself as if he was a soldier going into battle. The roses he had brought sat discarded beside them; they were props, ready to be used in the greatest performance of Ginny's life.

"I could run faster than you any day," she challenged.

Malfoy examined his nails. "I doubt that."

"Oh, really?" She narrowed her eyes. "Well, I'll have you know that-"

"I'll have the next couple, please!"

The voice was feminine, issuing from the examination room. Ginny inhaled sharply. She glanced quickly at Malfoy, her face taught. "Just remember that we're madly in love. We're happy to be together."

Malfoy straightened his robes. His hands fumbled with his loose tie, and Ginny watched the painful struggle for a moment before sighing. Without a word, she cinched it for him. Then, before he could say anything, she scooped up the bouquet of roses.

"Don't mess this up," she warned him.

Malfoy gave her a scathing look that said he did not appreciate her help at all before pushing past her towards the door. To her surprise, he held it open. When she raised her eyebrows, he smirked.

"Ladies first."

Ginny gave him a sunny smile as she entered the assessment room. It was painted a cheerful yellow, with white-shuttered windows that stretched on for miles. One of the corners held a crackling fire. A soft rug lay in the middle, topped with cushy chairs and a small coffee table.

"Welcome to couple assessment!"

A petite, blonde woman sat on a nearby cushion, and she clapped her hands together. Her hair was tied back in a brisk manner, but she was smiling. Her eyes were bright with something like enthusiasm. She reminded Ginny of an incredibly cheerful pixie. The young woman must have noticed Ginny's discomfort, because she laughed.

"I'm Ms. Fullerton, the assessor," she explained. "But please call me Isabel, if it makes you more comfortable."

"It's lovely to meet you," Ginny gushed, shooting Malfoy a very pointed look over her shoulder. "We've been looking forward to his all week."

To her great shock and embarrassment, Malfoy moved right beside her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and if Ginny hadn't known him, she would have thought it was as natural a reflex as blinking. She could feel the warmth of his arm through her shirt, and she felt her cheeks heat up.

"You mean that you've been looking forward to this all week," Malfoy corrected her, squeezing her waist. "I've had to listen to you go on about it for ages. You never shut-up about it."

Well, at least some things never changed.

Ginny stiffened at his words, but she forced herself to relax. She was acutely aware of every single place he was touching her back. She forced herself to breathe. Then, when she could stand it no longer, she hurried forward and took the chair across from Isabel.

"Where are my manners?" she asked. "I'm Ginny, and this is Ma- Draco."

The words fell awkwardly in the air. Ginny wanted to kick herself, and the smile felt frozen on her face. She could feel Malfoy's eyes burning a hole through the back of her head as he took the seat beside her. Isabel, if anything, looked delighted.

"My Draco?" she cooed. "How adorable."

Ginny certainly wasn't about to correct her. She hid her face, as if embarrassed, and smiled. "Sorry. The pet names just slip out sometimes."

"That's perfectly all right." Isabel hoisted her clipboard, and her quill scribbled something on the paper. "I have to say, most couples aren't nearly as enthusiastic as you two. It's nice to have a change of pace."

"We've made the best of it, that's for sure." Ginny leaned towards Malfoy in her chair. She couldn't seem to look him in the eye anymore. "We've known each other for years now."

"Were you two always so close?" Isabel asked. "Considering that you're a Gryffindor and Draco's a Slytherin, I wouldn't have thought you knew one another prior to the war."

At the last word, Ginny felt her heart falter. She could suddenly smell blood, hot and metallic, and the sound of screams echoed around her head. The room felt too hot. Her vision blurred, and she could hear her own ragged breathing as if from far away. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. She saw the images every night: Lucius Malfoy standing over the dead body of a muggleborn girl; Draco's mother cursing Hermione.

"No." There was a pressure around her hand. The grip helped to anchor her, and she breathed deeply. Malfoy met her gaze squarely, and he squeezed her hand, just once. "We didn't know one another then."

"Your relationship must have developed quickly, then," Isabel noted.

"Yeah." There was something softer in his gaze than Ginny had seen before. His eyes were intent, as if he was trying to convey something to her. The edges of his mouth quirked upwards. "I got the luck of the draw, I guess."

Ginny's cheeks were flaming, and she wrenched her eyes away. "I couldn't agree more."

"Well, there's not much to assess in that case." Dimly, Ginny could tell that Isabel was studying the two of them. Apparently satisfied, the young witch flipped her clipboard over, resting her elbows on the back of it. "Since we still have some time left, why don't you tell me how the two of you first met?"

Ginny couldn't help it: she laughed aloud. _Oh, if only she knew…_

The rest of the session was filled with hastily invented stories. Isabel occasionally interrupted to ask a question, or else put in a comment. Malfoy took the lead, and she was relieved to find that his words were smooth and persuasive; at times, Ginny forgot that he was lying at all. For her part, she did the best to laugh at all the right times and tease Malfoy light-heartedly. They were on their fifth story when Isabel finally stopped them.

"Oh, I'd love to hear another," she said, "but I'm afraid that my next students are here. Can you forgive me?"

"Certainly," Ginny put in quickly. "Draco and I bore people if we talk for too long."

"You have no idea how refreshing and enlightening this session was for me." Isabel stood up, gathering her clipboard in her arms. Ginny had offered to leave the roses with her, and she placed them in a vase before hurrying after her. Isabel smiled as she held the door open for the pair of them. " I really enjoyed speaking with the both of you; you two make an adorable couple."

"Thank-you." Malfoy shook her hand politely. "When should we expect the results?"

"Sometime within the week," Isabel promised.

She waved at them as the two departed. Then, she ushered a nervous Seamus and an irritated Alicia into the room. Both of them looked relieved to be speaking English again. Ginny forced a smile as they left, sticking purposefully close to Malfoy. The boy's face was neutral, wiped clean like a piece of parchment.

It was only when they turned the corner, safe from Isabel's prying eyes, that the two sprang apart. Ginny collapsed to the ground, taking deep, slow breaths. Malfoy was holding on to the wall as if he might fall over.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded. "You almost fainted in the middle of the assessment. And you called me Malfoy, Weasley!"

"Gee, I wonder why," she snapped. "Force of habit, perhaps?"

Malfoy pointed at the assessment room. "That was your fault!"

"My fault?" Ginny demanded, incredulous. "You're the one who went in there like bloody Romeo and grabbed my waist. I said supportive boyfriend, Malfoy, not possessive lunatic!"

Malfoy scowled at her. "Well, you were the one laughing like a manic banshee. Nothing I was saying was supposed to be funny!"

"That's what people in relationships do, Malfoy!" Ginny tossed her hands up in the air, completely beside herself. She could tell that her red hair was sticking up all over the place, but currently, she didn't care. She narrowed her eyes at him. "People in relationships laugh, and they cuddle, and they-"

"I don't see how you would know." Malfoy's eyes were icy. "You've never been in one because you spend all your time trailing after Potter."

They stared at one another for a long moment. Ginny's entire body was aflame, and she didn't know whether she wanted to hit him or cry or both. Slowly, she stood, her entire body stiff. She crossed her arms protectively over her chest. Then, she spun on her heel, calling over her shoulder as she went.

"You can go to hell, Malfoy!"

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	13. To Find a Ferret

_Author's Note_: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I'm sorry to have caused such pain. Hopefully things will be a little lighter in the future! (but not this chapter. Definitely not this chapter)

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen<strong>

_"I don't know exactly what I mean by that, but I mean it." - J.D. Salinger_

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><p>"How did it go?" Lavender demanded.<p>

The three girls were lounging around the dorm room in various states of undress, although Ginny could tell that each girl had been waiting for her: Parvati's textbook was upside down, and Hermione's eyes hadn't moved from the same spot in her book since Ginny had arrived. Only Lavender had abandoned all pretences, sitting up eagerly on her bed.

"All right." Ginny shrugged, leaning down to pull off her trainers. "Well, the assessment went better than expected, but Malfoy's still a prick."

Parvati offered her a sympathetic look. "I'm sure he's not so bad once you get to know him."

"I can't see how he could be worse," Ginny said bitterly. With a hard yank, she tugged off her trainer, sending it flying across the bedroom. The other one followed shortly after, colliding with the door. Hermione watched each one with a furrowed brow.

"Oh, Gin," she sighed. "What did he do?"

Ginny hopped on to her bed. Savagely, she tugged the covers up to her chin, resting her aching head against the backboard. She hadn't decided whether she wanted to talk about it yet; and even if she did, it was Luna that she wanted to tell.

"It doesn't matter," she said, waving a flippant hand. "So long as we pass the assessment, I don't care if Malfoy murders kittens in his spare time." Sensing the other girls' protests, Ginny hastily continued. "I heard that your assessment went well, Parvati."

"Yeah." Parvati fiddled with the end of her plait, smiling a little to herself. "I ended up doing most of the talking; Isabel and I had a great discussion about the latest drew robes. Michael was bored out of his mind. I thought we were going to fail for sure, but Isabel said our body language was spot on."

Ginny felt her stomach flip over; Isabel hadn't said anything like that to them. She rolled on to her back, her head dangling off the side of the bed. "And what about you, Lav?"

"Well, we couldn't exactly talk about how we found out, seeing as how we were both unconscious for it," she said dryly. "Mostly we talked about our plans for the future. Did you know that Cormac wants to work as a dragon trainer?"

Ginny shook her head; she had always assumed that the boy wanted to be a Keeper. It made sense now that she thought about it: Cormac was stocky and muscular, the same frame that Charlie had. Hermione must have been thinking along similar lines, because she chimed in right on cue.

"Charlie was saying that dragon keeping is fascinating," she said. "I think I bored him to death talking about the factual side of it all, but he was all right during the assessment. He's quite the chatterbox, isn't he, Gin?"

"Charlie never shuts up," Ginny agreed, grinning. "It's bloody irritating."

A sudden, large growl came from her left. She sat up, blinking, as Lavender smiled sheepishly. The other girl put a hand to her stomach. "It's almost dinner. We had better go soon, or I'll eat one of you instead."

The other three girls were out the door before she had finished speaking.

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><p>Ginny tilted her chin upwards, allowing the shafts of afternoon sunlight to warm her face. Lazy beams drifted through the windows of the foyer, making patterns on the floor. She hadn't been particularly hungry for breakfast this morning, and she had dawdled behind the girls when the sunlight made an appearance. Scotland was too cold and wet to pass up such a rare treat.<p>

"Weasley!"

Ginny kept her eyes closed, gritting her teeth. Just like that, her moment had been spoiled by a blond prat who smirked too much. If he didn't have a good reason for speaking with her, she really was going to murder him; breakfast was French toast today, and at the rate she was going, she was going to miss it.

"Stalking me now, Malfoy?" she asked coolly.

"Not quite." His voice was taught. "Listen-"

"I'm not really in the mood." The moment broken, Ginny moved reluctantly from the sunlight, crossing her arms over her chest. "Anything that you have to say to me, I don't want to hear."

"We failed."

"I-" She blinked. "What?"

"We failed," he repeated. A piece of parchment was thrust at her chest and, numbly, she took it. Malfoy's expression was storm clouds. "Isabel failed us; we have a longer sentence than anyone else in Hogwarts."

Ginny grimaced. Her eyes were already scanning the lines of the report, but she couldn't seem to take in the words. They swam around in front of her eyes, curling off the page like a serpent's tongue. Finally, she managed to focus on the letters.

_Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Weasley, _it read.

_While I commend you on your creativity and improvisation skills, it has become quite clear to me that you would rather attempt to lie and scam your way through an assessment than expose genuine feelings for one another. I have recommended a total of three months of couple activity for the pair of you, with an hour designated solely to partner bonding on a daily basis. I urge you to use the allotted time to grow closer and begin to understand on another. _

_I really did mean it when I said that you were a cute couple._

_Signed,_

_Ms. Isabel Fullerton, Assessor 316_

Ginny crumpled the letter in the fist of her hand. She pitched it unceremoniously into the nearest rubbish bin, cursing under her breath. She wished that she were a better actress. She hated her father for giving her the gene that made her blush when she was nervous. Most of all, she hated the stupid Inter-Unity Law and everything that came with it.

"I really thought that we had her," she said aloud.

Malfoy leaned back against a nearby stone pillar. He bit into an apple. "We've got almost double what everyone else has."

"An hour," Ginny groaned, smacking a hand to her forehead. "An hour I have to spend with you."

Malfoy looked torn between laughing at her misfortune and scowling at his own. He took another bite of his apple, this time, with vicious intent. "In that case, I'll enjoy the hours away from you in the mean time."

He started towards the Hall, undoubtedly to eat the last of the French toast before Ginny could arrive. Childishly, Ginny stuck her tongue out at him. Then, emboldened, she made a rude gesture with her hands.

"I saw that," he called over his shoulder.

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><p>As soon as Ginny took her place at the breakfast table, Ron pounced on her. His hands were clenched into fists, and his face had gone a splotchy sort of red. With some trepidation, Ginny glanced pleadingly at the Hufflepuff table, but Hannah merely shrugged sympathetically before turning back to her toast.<p>

"I swear to Merlin, Gin, I will help you out of this," Ron promised her. "You must be terrified; my own sister, paired with _Malfoy_. He's a bloody death eater, and everyone knows it."

"Ron."

Her brother continued on with a frightful determination. "Maybe if you told Dumbledore that Malfoy hexed you or something-"

"Ron!" Ginny interjected. "It's all right. Really, I can handle this myself."

She patted his hand patronizingly. Sometimes, she swore that Ron still saw a six year old that couldn't find her way home when he looked at her. Calmly, Ginny turned back to her breakfast. All of the French toast, as she had guessed, was gone, but she helped herself to a plate full of eggs and kippers.

Ron looked relieved. "You've already spoken with Dumbledore, then?"

"I meant that I'm handling this my own way." Ginny leant back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "Ron, I'm not going to be the girl that needs special treatment because she can't handle it."

"This isn't time for your pride, Ginny!" Ron's mouth hung open, unhinged, and he sounded exasperated. "We're talking about forever."

"Who's talking about forever?"

Harry slid into the seat across from the bickering siblings. His dark hair was mussed, and there was a bright pink lipstick mark on the side of his cheek. With a raised eyebrow, Ginny touched her own cheek. Harry checked his reflection in a spoon before sheepishly wiping it away.

"I saw Padma this morning," he explained.

"Well, it's good to know that some matches have been given a chance," Ginny said, glaring pointedly at her brother. "And worked out for the better, I might add."

"Ginny…" Ron looked pained. "This is Malfoy that we're talking about; he kicks puppies for fun. Tell her how stupid she's being, Harry."

Harry almost choked on a piece of sausage. "You were matched with Malfoy?"

He looked genuinely surprised, and Ginny was amused to see that he had somehow avoided all of the Hogwarts gossip. Then again, she shouldn't have been surprised: Harry had been the subject of many rumours before, and it was in his nature to reject idle chatter. Ron buried his head in his hands.

"This is a bloody nightmare," he moaned. "Malfoy, at the burrow for Christmas dinner. I reckon I'd rather put my hand in a blender."

"Be nice." Ginny swatted at him. "Besides, there's nothing that I can do."

"Ginny." Ron set down his fork, which was when Ginny knew exactly how serious her brother was being: food was sacred. His blue eyes were solemn. "Tell me one good thing that could possibly come out of being married to Malfoy."

"Well," Ginny said, examining her fingernails, "I hear he's a great shag."

Ron, who had been in the process of drinking pumpkin juice, spewed orange liquid across the table. Harry looked disgusted. Ginny had to duck her head to keep from laughing as he set down the toast he had been eating. Hermione, who had arrived just in time to witness the spectacle, took the seat beside Ron.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Nothing!" Ron protested, just a little too quickly. His face was still tinged a pale green. "Just some juice down my windpipe and into my lungs."

Hermione eyed them all suspiciously, but let the subject drop. Ron, who had finished gasping for air, seemed to finally realize who was sitting beside him. Ginny noticed that he was very careful not to let any part of him touch Hermione, and when he spoke, his words were just a little too stiff.

"How were your assessment results, Hermione?"

Hermione's face lit up. "We were in the top percentile! Isabel said that we make a really good couple, and I agree. Charlie says that-"

She broke off awkwardly, as if remembering whom she was speaking to. Ron was very deliberately chewing his French toast. His ears had gone a telltale red, but Ginny felt a swell of pride for his steadfast determination to maintain his demeanour. Before Ron could lose it, she cut in.

"That's brilliant, Hermione," she said. "You're so lucky."

Hermione looked sympathetic. "You and Ma- Draco didn't do so well?"

"No." Ginny cringed. "And please, stick to _Malfoy_. That's what I call him."

Although she didn't elaborate, Hermione seemed to guess by her facial expression exactly how poorly Ginny and Malfoy had done in the assessment. When Hermione spoke, her voice was filled with false optimism. "Well, at least Lavender will be pleased; she finally has an excuse to make you wear that blue dress she's always talking about."

"There's no way that I'm wearing that dress." It had enough lace and frills to drown a small city in, and Ginny shuddered at the thought. "Besides, I think most of our time will be spent beating one another up."

"There's always the dance at the end of the week," Hermione reminded her.

Ginny's face grew dark. "I forgot about that."

"What about the dance?" Parvati dropped into an open seat between Hermione and Neville. She propped her chin on her hand, sighing. "It's been a nightmare trying to convince Michael to go. I keep telling him that it's mandatory, but I always seem to be with the one boy who won't dance."

"Oi!" Harry protested, his mouth full of bacon. He swallowed quickly, and his eyes watered from the heat. "We started at the Yule ball!"

Parvati rolled her eyes. "Because it was _mandatory_. Do you see my point? All boys are like that."

"I don't know," Ginny said. She thought of Neville stepping on her toes in her third year, clumsily falling over her, and supressed a grin. "Some boys like to dance."

Hermione looked torn between curiosity and horror. "Does Malfoy really?"

Everyone else was peering at her with expressions identical to Hermione's. Belatedly, Ginny realized what her words must have sounded like, and she spoke quickly. "Oh, no. Well, yes. I mean – oh bother it all, I have no idea."

Flustered, her elbow landed in Ron's plate filled with sticky syrup. Hermione burst out laughing. Parvati followed suit, and soon, even Ron was chuckling. Ginny tried in vain to scrape the syrup off with a napkin.

"Where's Lavender?" she asked, concentrating on dabbing at the skin. The napkin was flaking, and bits stuck to her elbow. "I haven't seen her this morning."

"Out with Cormac." Parvati smiled, but there was something sly about it. "He's teaching her how to fly."

"Lavender?" Ginny abandoned the napkin. Hermione's spoon fell to the table with a clatter, but Ginny hardly registered it. "She's _flying_?"

"Trying to, more like."

"Are you quite certain that it was on a broom?" Ginny asked. "Maybe McLaggan was just going to toss her up in the air or something."

But even as she spoke, Ginny's mind was elsewhere. She couldn't seem to wrap her mind around the idea of Lavender on a broom. Last she checked, Lavender wouldn't walk outside when it was windy for fear of ruining her hair. Ginny had offered time and time again to teach her how to fly, but Lavender always seemed to mysteriously disappear an hour before they had agreed to go.

"Seamus and Dean are out there too," Parvati added, grinning. "I think Dean's avoiding Millicent."

"Well, good for her." Ginny shovelled down the last bit of eggs on her plate before standing abruptly. She smoothed her skirt down. When Parvati gave her a questioning look, Ginny shrugged. "I left my books in the dorm this morning; I was in a bit of a daze."

"And yet you still had time to talk to Malfoy," Hermione observed. "I thought that you hated him."

Calmly, Ginny snatched a pear off the table. "You know that I had to find out the results from the assessment. He had them."

Hermione smiled triumphantly. "From what I remember, you didn't know that he had them."

Ginny blushed.

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><p><strong>Please review! <strong>It did end on a bit of a bittersweet note, so at least there's a little more hope for these two than last chapter!


	14. Transformations

_Author's Note: _I'm always so grateful for all of the lovely reviews! Their mandatory couple time starts in this chapter, and I promise that it will certainly be… interesting. This is a long chapter, so I hope you enjoy! Also: credit to Cassandra Clare for the idea of the Malfoy Etiquette book.

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><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen<strong>

_"The universe is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper." - Eden Philpotts_

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><p>Ginny waited on the front steps anxiously. Reflexively, she checked her timetable for what must have been the twentieth time in the last several minutes; the words swam off the page, blurring together, but she knew what they said: <em>couple activity<em>. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. Her head was pounding, and she leant back against a tree to remain upright.

"Early, Weasley?"

Ginny jumped. A lean blond was picking his way across the grassy slope. Malfoy was coming from the direction of the quidditch pitch, and although he carried no broom, Ginny could tell that he had been playing; his hair was windswept, and his cheeks were chapped red.

"Maybe you're just late," she challenged.

He smirked. "Malfoy's are never late. Everyone else is simply early."

"Where'd you get that from?" Ginny rolled her eyes. "The back of a postcard?"

"The Malfoy Etiquette Book."

By the way he spoke of it, Ginny could tell that it was capitalized to relay a title of some sort. The words _Malfoy _and _etiquette _had never gone together in her mind, and she couldn't help but let her mouth hang open. Knowing the Malfoys, the book probably involved wearing formal dress on Wednesdays and killing only on Tuesdays.

"Malfoys have etiquette rules?" she clarified.

"Of course." Malfoy sounded almost hurt. "We're not barbarians, Weasley; we have to know which is the salad fork and which is the fork for dessert. Black robes for formal dinners, white robes for weddings, and we're not allowed to wear fuchsia."

Ginny stared at him. "Why?"

"Because." He was looking at her as if she had grown another head. "Fuchsia looks awful on all blonds. Well, all blonds except me, of course."

Ginny raised her eyes to the heavens. Silently, she pleaded for Merlin to give her strength. When she looked back down, Malfoy had his infuriating smirk, and Ginny sighed.

"What are we doing today, Malfoy?" she asked wearily.

He lifted a careless shoulder. "I asked Blaise the same thing. He had no idea, of course, but he asked Lovegood who mentioned that you like the lake."

There was something in his voice, an almost amused tone that made Ginny cross her arms defensively over her chest. "What?"

"Nothing." Malfoy was grinning. "But I mean, really, Weasley? You hang out at the lake?"

Ginny pursed her lips. "What's wrong with the lake?"

"Well, there's that whole thing where it gets cold and everything dies at this time of year," he said. "It's called winter."

"Congratulations, Malfoy." Ginny crumpled her timetable in the palm of her hand, shoving it viciously into her book bag. "Now you've really done it; we're definitely going to the lake."

Malfoy held up his hands innocently. "That's what I was suggesting all along!"

Ginny shook her head, stomping towards the lake. The cool wind bit at her face, and she pulled her scarf over her nose. She was glad that it covered her mouth as well: her grumbling was muffled enough that Malfoy couldn't hear it. She certainly didn't want to give him any justification to try and hex her. In fact, it was odd that Malfoy hadn't tried to hex her yet, and Ginny moved away from him suspiciously.

"What?" Malfoy looked amused. "Frightened by your attraction to me?"

"You wish, Malfoy." Ginny breathed warm air into the palms of her hands. When they reached the lakeside, she stopped, turning to face him at a safe distance. "It's just… why are you being so…"

"What?"

"Normal."

Malfoy arched an eyebrow. "Would you rather I tie you up and then throw you into the lake?"

Ginny surprised herself by smiling. "Were you thinking about it?"

"Not really," he scoffed. And then, after a moment's pause, "Besides, it would take me much too long to drag the body into the forest. I couldn't possibly levitate it either: quidditch players would see."

Ginny plopped herself down on the grassy bank of the lake, curling her feet beneath her. A thin layer of frost seeped through her jeans. On impulse, she stuck out her hand, allowing the water from the lake to wash over her fingertips.

"Only an hour left." Malfoy dropped down on the grass as well, a good five meters to her left. "I don't know if I can do it."

Ginny flopped backwards on to the grass. The sky was overcast, and she could just see the sun peeking through the knot of grey clouds. Her ankles were exposed between her jeans and canvas shoes, and the wet grass tickled her skin. She laid a hand over her eyes.

"Study or something then," she suggested. "Don't expect me to entertain you."

Malfoy made a sound of disbelief. "As if you'd be good company."

"Well, I guess you'll never know."

He sighed, and the sound was a grate to her nerves. Ginny buried her fingers in the frozen ground and mentally counted to ten. When that grew old, she began to repeat the same mantra over and over again: _he did not bother her, he did not bother her, he did not bother her…_

To her relief, Malfoy reached into his book bag and produced his schoolwork and a quill. A moment later, there was the scratching of writing. Ginny studied the shapes in the clouds. Half an hour passed. She began to grow restless and bored, an unlucky combination that made her more frustrated than she had been before. Eventually, she gave up altogether, sitting. Malfoy looked up from his parchment.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I don't think," she said, "I am."

"Okay." Malfoy set down his parchment. "What are you doing, Weasley?"

"I'm skipping rocks," she informed him.

Ginny plucked a smooth stone from the ground. It was still damp, and she wiped it briskly on her shirt. She tried to balance it flat between her fingers like Luna had taught her, but a snort from Malfoy told her that she was doing it wrong. She glared at him.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." He waved a careless hand. "Go right ahead. It looks more like you're prepared to murder a fish than skip a stone, but be my guest. I'm a big fan of sushi."

Ginny ignored him. With all the dignity she could muster, she wound her arm back, releasing the stone in one fluid motion. It hit the water's surface about ten metres away from where she stood. Then, in time with her heart, it sunk to the bottom. Malfoy smiled smugly.

"That was terrible," he observed gleefully.

"I'd like to see you do better," she huffed.

She was already bending down to pick up another stone when Malfoy, to her surprise, rose to his feet. "You're going to be sorry that you ever doubted me, Weasley."

He picked up a stone. It was smaller than anything Ginny would have picked, and with an odd sort of curve in the middle. Malfoy considered it for several moments before nodding, apparently satisfied. His wrist flicked forwards. The stone bounced once, twice, and eventually another four times. Ginny stared in amazement as it disappeared from her sight.

"How did you do that?" she demanded.

As if she could absorb his skills, she snatched another rock off of the ground. Her execution was sloppy, and the stone ricocheted wide, splashing and then sinking beneath the surface. Malfoy skipped another, this time, for a total of eight times. When he turned back to her, his expression was smug.

"Another Malfoy requirement is talent."

Ginny snorted inelegantly. "And they let you live anyways?"

She ducked as the stone he had been holding moments ago flew over her head. Luckily, she had played enough rounds of quidditch with Fred and George to know when a boy was angry enough to throw a bludger at you. Ginny smiled, straightening.

"But answer me honestly." She leaned forward, her voice dropped to a covert exchange. "Do they really kill you at birth if you don't come out of the womb performing illegal curses?"

Malfoy released another rock. It shot from his hand, almost as if pulled magnetically towards the lake. Ginny counted nine ripples before it disappeared. Malfoy turned to look at her. "Tell me, Weasley: do you they kill you just to save money?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "You're such a prat."

"Pauper," Malfoy countered coolly.

"Git."

"Bloody Gryffindor."

"Stupid Slytherin."

"Stupid Slytherin?" Malfoy echoed, and he sounded amused. "You've lost your touch, Weasley."

"By not insulting me, you've admitted I just won," she announced, and a mixture of smugness and self-righteous contempt filled her. "As my prize, you'll teach me how to skip stones."

"You _won_?" Malfoy repeated sceptically. "I'm fairly certain you were in competition with yourself there, Weasley."

Ginny raised one eyebrow. "That doesn't change the fact that I want to learn to skip stones and you haven't said no to teaching me. Otherwise," she added, seeing the look of reluctance on his face, "it's another fifteen minutes of my nagging."

Malfoy examined his wand, bored. "I can do a silencing charm."

"And I can do the counter-curse non-verbally," Ginny snorted.

She realized her mistake too late; Malfoy's eyes widened minutely. For a moment, she thought that he looked almost impressed, and then it disappeared beneath a mask of calm curiosity. "You can?"

"Of course not." Ginny coughed, trying to hide her discomfort. "I'm pulling your leg, Malfoy. Now show me how to skip a stone." To punctuate her words, she held up a rock, balancing it in her grip. "Is this how you hold it?"

Malfoy looked horrified. "If you were planning to beat someone to death, maybe. If you want to skip a stone, then no; it's like this."

He scooped a pebble seamlessly from the ground. Then, with as little effort as if he was drawing a breath, he flipped it. The rock twirled in the palm of his hand, and then rested comfortably between his fingers.

"Like that," he instructed.

"Er." Ginny was still lost as to how he had picked it up so quickly. "Can you do that again? Only, more slowly?"

To her surprise, he did so, very patiently. He demonstrated in slow motion how to shift it so that he had a firm grip on it. Unfortunately, Ginny had problems copying his movements, and she cradled it awkwardly in her hand. Malfoy smirked.

"Now you're holding it like a javelin, Weasley."

He demonstrated yet again. Ginny bit her lip, tucking a lock of red hair behind her ear as she concentrated. This time, she followed his movements more accurately, and when she threw it, she managed to skip it once. The next twenty minutes passed is a similar fashion: Malfoy would demonstrate, and she would do her best to mimic it. It was during one particularly good release that Ginny realized she was genuinely enjoying the activity.

She quickly shook that thought off: it was much too dangerous to consider for long.

* * *

><p>Ginny burst into the transfiguration classroom. The doors gave an alarming <em>bang<em>, colliding with the stone wall, and heads swivelled to stare at her. She was panting, and she knew that her cheeks were red with exertion. Hastily, Ginny smoothed her skirt, ignoring the curious looks from the students.

"Sorry, professor," she apologized.

"Really, Ms. Weasley!" Near the front, Professor McGonagall straightened her glasses indignantly. Her wand was held aloft like a conductor's baton. "Barging in to class fifteen minutes late? That's not like you at all."

"I know," Ginny sighed. "I was just with-"

The word _Malfoy _stuck in her throat. Belatedly, she realized all too quickly what the students would assume given her harried state, and she felt her cheeks heat up. Professor McGonagall raised a sharp eyebrow.

"Yes?" she prompted.

Ginny wracked her brains. All at once, it came to her. "With peeves!" she said earnestly. "He was flooding the bathrooms again."

Although her voice came out steady and even, McGonagall looked at her with a mixture of scepticism and wry amusement. "Really? And have you informed Mr. Filch?"

Ginny nodded, clasping her hands innocently in front of her. Thankfully, McGonagall pushed it no further, and the professor gestured for Ginny to take her seat. Ginny gratefully slid in next to Luna. Soon, McGonagall began her lecture again, pointing to what looked like an oversized rodent. Next to her, Luna was grinning.

"Peeves?" she mouthed.

Ginny made a shushing noise, flapping her hand before turning to face the front again. Luna frowned and reached for a bit of spare parchment and a quill. Ginny knew what she was planning, but she also knew that nothing got past McGonagall, and the woman wasn't lenient when it came to tardiness: Ginny didn't want to anger her any further.

"Not now," she hissed. "We'll talk later."

Apparently, Luna was satisfied, because she tucked the parchment away again. Ginny watched with rapt attention as the rat McGonagall held up front transformed into a large, brass key. Unfortunately, she had missed most of the demonstration, and she would be lucky if she didn't accidentally cut off the rat's tail. A moment later, students sprang into motion, grabbing partners and large, ugly rodents.

"We're working together," Luna announced, dragging her chair towards Ginny's desk. "You can go first, if you'd like."

"Oh." Swallowing, Ginny pulled out her wand. Luna had deposited a rat on their desk, and it stared up at her with beady eyes. Ginny poked it experimentally. "So I just prod it and say the spell?"

Luna studied her shrewdly. "You weren't listening, were you?"

"Of course I was!" she protested haughtily. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

She could tell that Luna was trying very hard not to smile. "Why don't you give the _presto _spell a go, then?"

"All right. On three, then." Ginny tied her hair back, squaring her shoulders. Before she could lose her nerve, she poked the rat with her wand. "So, um, one, two, three, _presto_!"

Ginny waited somewhat patiently, hovering over the rodent. The rat stared back at her, bored, before lying down for what looked like a very long nap. Luna burst out laughing. When the rat rolled over lazily, Luna was beside herself, and there were tears in her eyes.

"Gin," she gasped. "There's no- such thing- as a _presto _spell!"

Ginny stuck out her tongue. "You're a git."

"Honestly." Luna wiped at her eyes. "Merlin, that was hilarious. The look on your face afterwards…"

"Yeah, yeah." Ginny rolled her eyes. "So what do I actually do?"

"Just copy me," Luna instructed.

Apparently recovered from her fit of hysteria, Luna pulled out her wand. Ginny watched as she performed a number of complicated wand movements. Her hand moved much faster than Ginny could follow, and before she had time to process what she was seeing, Luna was holding a perfectly shaped key.

"Understand?" she asked.

"Um." Ginny hesitated. "Would you mind doing that one more time? But slower?"

Luna obliged. With a flick of her wand, the rat changed back. Then, she cut the speed of her gestures to half time. Soon enough, the rat shrank to another flawless key. Luna switched it back to a rat and handed her the rodent. Ginny rolled up her sleeves, balancing her wand between her fingers.

"Well, this should be simple enough." Ginny swished her wand in the complicated pattern of ovals that Luna had demonstrated. Then, in a hushed voice, "_Murisat_."

She watched in dismay as the rat turned a gaudy pink color, an almost unbearable fuchsia. Luna seemed to be holding back a smile. She waved her wand, turning the rodent back to its original color.

"Like this," Luna corrected her.

Ginny watched enviously a third perfect key was produced. She scrunched up her nose, laying her chin in the palm of her hand. "At this rate, I'll have to skip Hogsmede this weekend to practice."

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Luna slapped a hand to her head. "You can't not-come. We're going on a double date next weekend."

"It's funny," Ginny said, frowning. "I don't remember being asked about this alleged double date, and you're mad if you think I'd ever agree to go out with Malfoy."

Luna smiled. "Well, the only other option's Blaise, and he's mine," she declared. "Or there's always me, I suppose; I could be your date."

She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Ginny laughed. "You'll never get me to agree, you know. Or Malfoy, for that matter."

Luna grinned. "He's already coming."

"What?" Ginny, who had been in the process of trying to transform the rat, swung around and caught the rat in the forehead with her wand. She ignored the rodent's indignant squeal. "Did you threaten him into it?"

"Well, not personally." Luna shrugged. "Blaise did the talking."

Ginny was surprised to feel the smallest pang of disappointment. It was illogical, she knew, but a small part of her was offended that Malfoy had to be bullied into a date with her. Quickly, she smoothed her features, trying to keep her voice even.

"Maybe he's going, then," she conceded, "but that doesn't mean that I am."

Luna looked like she wanted to say more, but then cut off, her gaze snapping up to the front of the classroom. Too late, Ginny realized that most of the class was staring at the pair of them. Professor McGonagall's mouth had pressed into a thin line, and from her stern expression, Ginny could tell that she had been trying to get her attention for a while.

"Yes, professor?" she asked meekly.

"I was saying that your rat appears to be unchanged," she said crisply. "You must have the spell mastered already if you're speaking with Miss Lovegood instead of practicing. Perhaps you'd like to demonstrate the _Murisat _spell to the class, Miss Weasley?"

That was about the last thing that Ginny wanted to do. Her palms were slick with sweat, and she was having troubles holding on to her wand. Desperately, she looked to Luna. The blonde girl offered her a very Malfoy-like smirk.

"I'll help you if you promise to come to Hosmede," she muttered.

Ginny cursed colorfully under her breath. The look on McGonagall's face was long past impatience, and she gritted her teeth. "Fine, I promise. Now help me!"

Luna tossed her blonde curls back, looking very smug indeed. She hissed instructions out of the corner of her mouth. Ginny followed them hastily, almost blind in her urgency, and she was amazed when a perfect key transformed before her. Professor McGonagall looked just as surprised.

"Well done, Miss Weasley." She gave her a small smile. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

Ginny, half-dazed, bobbed her head up and down like a puppet on strings. The class began attacking their own rats with renewed vigour, occasionally glancing over at Ginny's key for reference. The noise level rose. Ginny immediately rounded on Luna.

"I did it," she said, frowning.

"Good job, Gin." Luna didn't look surprised. "I knew you would."

Something in her words went beyond normal encouragement, and Ginny had a sudden sneaking suspicion that her friend had been pulling the strings. She narrowed her eyes. "You were giving me the wrong instructions before, weren't you?"

Luna shrugged, unabashed. "You wouldn't have come to Hogsmede otherwise."

Innocently, the blonde girl turned the rat pink, and then back again. Ginny couldn't help but feel a grudging respect; sometimes, she forgot there was a reason that Luna was a Ravenclaw.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Tricky Luna! Between her advice to Draco and her devious double date, she's definitely team Drinny. Any ideas what the Hogsmede date will be like? I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	15. Dancing Disasters

_Author's Note: _Thanks to everyone that reviewed! I loved hearing your thoughts, and it definitely encouraged me to write faster. As most of you guessed, the couple time won't be easy for either of them, and I'm sure that both of them will want to kill the other on numerous occasions…. including this chapter which, as suggested by the title, focuses on the students learning to dance for the upcoming ball. Oh my!

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><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen<strong>

_"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music." - Friedrich Nietzsche_

* * *

><p>Ginny pushed open the doors to the Great Hall. She could feel the heat pooling in her cheeks, pumping in time with her heart. Mercifully, she reached the Hall in time, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Briefly, she closed her eyes; her relief was short lived, quickly replaced with a flicker of disappointment. It wasn't that she had forgotten about this meeting, exactly, so much as she had tried to convince herself to forget.<p>

"Ginny!"

Her eyes snapped open. Parvati, who looked very excited, was dancing up and down on her toes nearby. Ginny noticed that all the tables had been pushed to the side of the room, and the windows had been flung open. Clean air poured in, bringing the chilly autumn breeze with it.

"How late am I?" Ginny sighed.

"Not late at all," Parvati announced, bounding towards her. "Professor Sinistra forgot the record player, so luckily for you, she's gone to fetch it."

"Record player?" Ginny echoed. "What for?"

Parvati laughed. "Didn't you hear? We're dancing!"

"We're _what_?" Ginny felt her mouth drop open. "You must be joking."

Parvati gave her a despairing look. The other girl wrapped one thin arm around Ginny's shoulder, steering her towards the rest of the students between fourth and seventh year sat. "Come on, Gin. It'll be fun."

Ginny caught sight of Lavender and Cormac, their hands tangled together, and she offered them a tight smile. Lavender looked excited, but Cormac pulled a face at her. Ginny felt a little better.

"Dumbledore called a meeting to have us dance?" she asked Parvati.

"He called the meeting to _teach_ us how to dance," she corrected her. "You know, for the ball later this week."

Parvati bobbed up and down on her tiptoes, scanning the crowd to look for Michael, undoubtedly. Ginny bit her lip. She caught a flash of red hair somewhere to her left, and she heard Ron's laugh. Apologetically, she smiled at Parvati, moving towards Ron.

"There you are," he said upon catching sight of her. "I was beginning to worry that you weren't going to show."

He snagged a lock of her hair, tugging fondly on it. Ginny wriggled out of his grip. Hannah, who was standing beside him, smiled. Ginny stuck her tongue out at the pair of them.

"I wouldn't have shown if I had known what this was about," she admitted.

Her eyes wandered to where their friends stood throughout the Hall: Harry was looking around the room warily, holding Padma almost absent-mindedly around the waist. Padma appeared to be talking at Parvati, who was occasionally nodding although she seemed preoccupied with searching for Michael. Dean and Seamus were caught up in a lively debate a couple feet over; Dean looked quite thankful that his friend was speaking English again so that Seamus could console him about Millicent. Luna was nowhere to be found although, Ginny noticed, neither was Blaise.

"Please." Ron snorted inelegantly. "Girls have it easy; it's the boys that have to do all of the work. There's the stepping and the leading and the rhythm and the timing…"

"Nice try," Hannah snorted. She gave Ron a reproachful look. "I recall having to lead when we danced at the Yule Ball together."

Ron looked sheepish. "Yeah, but-"

"You danced with _her_?" Padma demanded. She and Harry had drifted closer, and, unfortunately for Ron, they were now within hearing range. Padma was looking at him incredulously. "I was your date and you wouldn't dance with me!"

Ron flushed. "Well, I-"

"Trust me, Padma," Harry cut in, grinning. "You wouldn't want him dancing with you; you'll have no toes left. That goes for you too, Hannah."

The Hufflepuff rolled her eyes. "I'll take my chances."

There was a loud _bang_ as the doors flew open. Professor Sinistra appeared, carting a large record player. It must have come up to Ginny's chin, and she could hardly see the professor's hat overtop of it. The woman was panting, struggling beneath its weight. Apparently, it hadn't occurred to her to charm it.

"Welcome to dancing lessons." She let the record player fall on to a nearby table, her face red with exertion. "And yes, all of you will be learning to dance. There's absolutely no way around it."

Ron gave a very audible groan beside her. Hannah squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Don't worry," she whispered. "My feet don't bruise easily."

"You will, of course, be dancing with your matches," the professor continued, "We keep an extensive list that we will refer to in case of any mix-ups."

She said the word _mix-ups _more like _desperate attempts to escape_. Ginny, whose stomach had tightened into a coiled knot, scanned the hall. Malfoy was lounging lazily in his chair in the Slytherin section. He looked relaxed, and Ginny wondered if he had already learned to dance in his time spent at the Manor. As if he could read her thoughts, his grey eyes slid towards her, and he smirked. Ginny scowled before turning away.

"Well, up you get!" Professor Sinistra instructed, clapping her hands together. "We'll start with a basic waltz. In order to address those who need a little more help, the partners that do not successfully complete the waltz must stay behind. Those who demonstrate dancing skills may leave."

Quickly, the students scrambled to their feet, organizing themselves into groups of two. Ginny caught sight of Malfoy; he was smirking confidently. She did hope that he wasn't too disappointed when they had to remain behind. It would be a miracle if she left the Hall without breaking at least two of his toes.

"Assume the starting position," Professor Sinistra barked.

Ginny watched as each couple took what she assumed to be the appropriate position. The only exception was Hermione, who stood at the side; Charlie was teaching the first years today, but Hermione had still insisted upon learning the technique.

"Follow my lead, okay?"

The voice, low in her ear, made her jump. Inadvertently, Ginny felt her heart speed up. Malfoy was watching her with cool grey eyes. She was sure that her face had gone all shades of red, and she did her best to glare at him.

"We tried that at the assessment, remember?" she snapped. "And look how that turned out."

The corner of his lip's quirked upwards. "You're going to have to actually touch me this time, you know."

"Can't you just conjure up some fancy wall to put between us?" she sighed. "Aren't you supposed to be some sort of charms prodigy?"

"No, I'm pretty sure that's you."

His words were even, but there was something sly in his expression. Ginny's heart kicked into overdrive. She thought of the broom that they had practiced on in Charms class, and how easily it had come to her. Had someone noticed? But no, they couldn't have. She had made it look difficult.

"What do you mean?" she demanded breathlessly. "I'm perfectly normal. Mediocre, even."

"I heard that you skipped a grade, but that must not be the case." Malfoy was looking at her steadily, but his curiosity was piqued, and she could tell that the subject was far from dropped. "My apologies."

Ginny, who had already opened her mouth to speak, was momentarily distracted by the fact that he had apologized. Her jaw dropped. There was a swell of music, and then the record player crackled to life, spilling music. Malfoy offered her his hand.

"Care to dance?"

"Very well." Stiffly, she took his hand. "I'll try not to impale you with my heel."

He laughed, deep in his throat. "I think that I can handle it, Weasley."

She froze as he wrapped his hand around her waist, drawing her near to him. She could feel the steady beating of his heart through her ribcage, and the swell of his breathing. Ginny bit her lip as they began to turn. "I wasn't kidding, you know," she said. "I can't dance."

Malfoy looked amused. "Well, you can't when your eyes are trained on the floor. Look up, Weasley. Try to ease up a little."

"I can't!" Momentarily panicked, Ginny forgot who she was dancing with, squeezing his hand tightly. "I'm going to trip- or- or _fall_."

Ginny stumbled as Fred and Angelina whirled by. The pair was a whirl of colors, twirling so madly that it looked as if they might tip over at any second. George and Katie had taken their speed as a challenge, and they matched it step for step. Ginny felt like she might vomit. "Malfoy-"

"Calm down." His grey eyes were steady. "When I was learning to dance, the easiest thing to do was to pretend I was in the place that I liked most. The rest of it comes naturally."

Ginny bobbed her head up and down, the words hardly processing. When she spoke, her words were shaky. "Okay. All right, I'll give it a try."

She squeezed her eyes shut. Her feet pitched forward a little, but Malfoy steadied her, and she took a deep breath. A memory came to her at once: it was Christmas in her second year at Hogwarts, and she had gone home for the holidays. Ginny had been baking cookies with her mum, and they had both been burning their tongues on the ones just out of the oven. Ginny's mum had been laughing, saying something about those pesky gnomes, and Ginny had smiled. The rest of the family had been there too, sitting in the living room. It had been the first time since Tom Riddle that she had felt safe. Ginny felt her shoulders relax. She let herself follow the steps that came to her with the memory, flooding her veins. She was surprised at how natural it felt. A hand coaxed her into a spin, and she followed it, bending like light through water.

The music stopped.

Ginny blinked. It had felt like they had been dancing for only seconds, but her skin was sweaty, and she was out of breath. Malfoy was watching her carefully. Ginny thought that she saw something flicker across his face, but in an instant, it was gone. "Not bad for a Weasley," he admitted grudgingly.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Bad? I was bloody brilliant."

"Well, at least you didn't permanently damage my foot," he agreed. "Now, if you'd just open your eyes so that you could see where you were going..."

"Like you would have let me lead."

"Oh, and I suppose-"

"You two!" a voice called.

Ginny took an immediate step back, her hands falling away. Malfoy's face was swept clean like a piece of parchment. Professor Sinistra was beaming at the pair of them, her hands clasped over her chest.

"Well done," she cooed. "What a fabulous pair you make! Consider yourselves free to go whenever you wish. Unless, of course, you wish to stay and demonstrate to the class?"

That was about the last thing that Ginny wanted to do, ranking under sawing her own finger off and swallowing a live rat. Malfoy looked similarly horrified. Before he could say something stupid that would land them in detention, Ginny took a step forward, smiling sweetly.

"Thank-you for the offer, professor," she said, "but I think I'm done dancing for today. I'll just be going, now."

Professor Sinistra's shoulder's drooped, but she nodded. Hurriedly, Ginny gathered her things. She gave Parvati a quick wink before pushing past the crowd and through the double doors, her heart pounding in time with her feet.

* * *

><p>Ginny flopped gratefully into the cozy depths of an armchair. The chatter of the Gryffindor common room was a low buzz tonight, and she closed her eyes, letting the steady hum surround her. The tongues of flame in the grate warmed her cheeks. A sharp pain lanced through her ankle. Her eyes snapped open, and she hissed a breath through her teeth. Wincing, Ginny shifted the sac of ice resting on her foot.<p>

"Still icing, Gin?"

Lavender grinned, scooting on to the couch across from her. A stack of books was tucked beneath her arm. Her long hair was braided away from her face, and a pair of reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose. In true Lavender form, they were more fashionable than practical: tiny jewels were embedded in the sides.

"Turns out that dancing isn't my thing," Ginny sighed.

Lavender scoffed. "That's not what it looked like."

"You weren't wearing your glasses then."

She let her head fall back against the top of the armchair. The fire was making her eyelids heavy, and the warmth was lulling her hypnotically to sleep. Embers sparked red and gold, the precise shade of her hair. Lavender was back to reading her book, and Ginny squinted to make out the title. "What are you reading?"

"_Quidditch Through the Ages_." Lavender waggled the book. "Cormac lent it to me."

Ginny stared at her. "You're reading about quidditch?"

Lavender snorted. "Was it the title that gave it away?"

Ginny flinched as her ankle gave another pang of protest. The ice had slipped, and she pushed it carefully back into place. The cold seeped into her fingers. For the second time, Lavender set down her book, propping her chin up on her knees. Her mouth quirked upwards into an impish smile.

"You like him, don't you?" Lavender asked.

"Who?"

"Malfoy."

Ginny almost fell out of the armchair. "I do not!"

"Oh yes you do," Lavender observed. Her eyes were narrowed wickedly, and there was a gleam in them that Ginny didn't like. "I saw the two of you dancing today. You were smiling."

"Facial spasm," Ginny explained. "Quite common, actually."

Lavender grinned. "You'll come around."

Ginny bit her tongue to keep from retorting. She very deliberately moved the ice, avoiding her friend's eyes. Lavender opened her mouth to speak, and Ginny hurriedly changed the subject. "How was dancing with Cormac?"

Lavender flopped back on the couch. "Oh, just awful."

"Really?"

"Yeah." She twisted around, searching the room. Lavender's eyes landed on where Cormac was playing chess against Seamus across the common room. Apparently satisfied, she continued. "I love the boy, but he's completely clueless when it comes to dancing."

Ginny laughed. "He has trouble with the steps, then?"

"Worse." Her face was grim. "He just invents them."

Ginny opened her mouth to relay what Malfoy had suggested before closing it with a frown. For some reason, she was strangely reluctant to repeat their conversation. It hadn't really been private, but there was something about the way he had said it that made her feel she should keep it to herself. Ginny realized a little late that Lavender was waiting for her response.

"Oh, that's a real shame," Ginny sympathized, having no idea what she was talking about. "I'm sure you'll figure something out."

"He does the twirling part alright." Lavender tapped her chin thoughtfully. "If I wore a dress with a wide skirt, we might be okay."

Ginny raised her hands to the fire. The heat soaked into her palms, at odds with the chilling sensation in her ankle. "Or you could wear one of the dozen gowns in your closet."

"No." Lavender frowned. "None of them are right."

"The blue one's nice," Ginny countered, choosing a color at random. "It really suits your complexion."

"My skin's not fair enough for it," she sighed. Then, her eyes brightened. "You, on the other hand, would look wonderful in it! Oh, just think Ginny, if we just lower the bust and sequin the top-"

"We can't!" Ginny blurted. Lavender deflated slightly. Biting her lip at her friend's crestfallen expression, Ginny hurriedly wracked her brain for an excuse. "I'm shopping for my dress in Hosmede. Next week. With Luna."

"Oh." Lavender picked at a loose string of her shirt. She looked crestfallen, and Ginny couldn't help but feel a little badly; although Lavender had never admitted it, Ginny could tell that she had always felt a little useless among the four of them. Hermione was the brains, Parvati was the heart, and Ginny was the muscle. Lavender had never quite fit as neatly into their triangle of parts. "Of course. Whatever you want."

"You could always do my hair," Ginny offered.

Lavender's head snapped up. Her face split into a wide smile, and Ginny immediately realized her mistake. The other girl clapped her hands together, squirming excitedly in her chair. "Really?" she squealed. "And your make-up?"

"If you want," Ginny conceded. She swore that Lavender had tears in her eyes. "It may take a lot of work."

Lavender settled back in her chair, appraising her. Her gaze flicked over Ginny's eyes and nose before settling on her hair. Ginny could already see Lavender mentally creating a list of potions and charms to gather. Apparently satisfied, Lavender nodded. "I'm an expert," she assured her. "I promise that Malfoy won't be able to take his eyes off of you."

Ginny made a gagging noise. "This isn't for him."

"Who's taking you to the ball then?" Lavender raised an eyebrow pointedly. "A dementor? Come on, Gin."

Ginny sighed, flopping back against the chair once more. Her ankle was numbed from the ice, but her temples were throbbing, and she massaged them tiredly. When Lavender made a scoffing sound, Ginny cracked open one eye to glare at her.

"Go away," she ordered. "I need to recover."

Lavender laughed. Ginny heard her gathering her books, and then the sofa gave a groan of protest as Lavender stood. Ginny's hair was ruffled, and she swatted indignantly at her friend. Lavender sprang aside.

"Okay," she agreed, giggling. "I'll leave you alone. I need to start planning your hairstyle for the ball anyways."

Her comment sent a flood of mental images, each as horrid as the last: pigtails, tight curls, big poufy waves and too much hairspray. Her temples gave a painful throb. Ginny groaned, throwing her arms over her head. She wished, not for the first time, that she would learn to think before she spoke.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note<em>: What do you think? **Who's your favourite character**? Any requests for another character's POV? I love to hear your feedback!


	16. Hogsmeade

_Author's Note: _Thank-you to everyone that reviewed! Many of you want to see a chapter from Draco's perspective, and I promise that's in the cards. There's a specific scene involving pyjamas that I plan to narrate from his point of view… or, should I say, lack of pyjamas! I've had a wonderful week spent outdoors with friends, and I hope that wherever you are, there's nice weather and flowers. Read this outside if you can!

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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen<strong>

_"Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore." - Andre Gide_

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><p>Ginny shivered, pulling her robes more securely around her. The wind coming off the lake was icy today, and the cold seeped through the wool of her cloak and into her bones. It was almost winter and the ground was covered in a thin layer of frost. Her boots made <em>crunching<em> sounds as she hopped on the spot, trying desperately to warm herself up.

Malfoy glanced over. "No warm cloak today, Weasley?"

Ginny frowned. "It's not supposed to be this cold out yet."

"Well," he said, "how rude of the weather to ignore your schedule."

Ginny ignored him. She stooped to the ground, searching the rocky lakebed for a flat stone. She plucked up a tawny speckled one, and immediately dropped it again. It was like dipping her hand in liquid nitrogen. She blew warm air into her cupped palms.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." Malfoy looked strained. He shoved a thick bundle of wool towards her. "Take my cloak. This is painful."

"I'm don't need it," she protested. "I'm perfectly fine."

Unfortunately, her teeth chose that moment to begin chattering intensely, forming an eerie chorus of _clicks_. Malfoy gritted his teeth. "Weasley. Stop being so bloody proud and take the thing."

"I said I'm-"

"I'm not enjoying this either," he growled. "But I was raised to give a lady my coat. It's common courtesy."

Grudgingly, Ginny accepted the bundle. It was bottle black with a hint of green, and the inside was velvet. It was much heavier and undoubtedly more expensive than her cloak. She stripped her own robe off, slipping into Malfoy's instead. It was still warm from his body heat. "It doesn't matter," she sighed. "The rocks are too cold to skip."

"That's the spirit." Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Doom and gloom, Weasley. Honestly, you're a ray of sunshine."

He bent down. The early winter sun turned his fine hair to gold, and he wore a black thermal shirt. The sleeves hung loose at his wrists. He wasn't built like her brothers, Ginny noted; where they were short and stocky, Malfoy was long and lean. She watched as he scooped up an onyx rock.

"Malfoy…" Ginny bit her lip as he skipped the stone. She was scare to break this fragile peace, but she had to ask. "Did you write your parents yet?"

He stiffened. "About what?"

"About…" Ginny felt her cheeks warm up. "Us."

Malfoy studied her. His grey eyes swept over her face, and she squirmed uncomfortably, praying that he would mistake the red in her cheeks for windburn. His lips twisted into a smirk. Mentally, Ginny cursed her family's fairness.

"Have you?" he asked.

"Yes."

Malfoy nodded. He didn't seem particularly surprised, and Ginny suspected that he had guessed the answer. His hand shot out to grab another rock. She watched as he considered it for a moment, cocking his head, before flinging it at the lake. It didn't skip, only hurtled through the water, sinking heavily to the bottom. He stared at the ripples of water. "I did as well," he admitted.

Ginny licked her chapped lips. "And?"

"And nothing," he said. "No response."

She winced as Malfoy threw a series of rocks at the surface. They cascaded one after the other, sending arcs of water through the air. Ginny played nervously with a lock of hair. Malfoy caught sight of her and laughed. It was a harsh, grating sound and Ginny flinched.

"Don't look so disappointed, Weasley," he advised. "I'm lucky if I get a birthday card every few years."

Malfoy bent down to scoop up another handful of rocks. Ginny wondered if he was planning to erode the entire shoreline. "I'm being serious, Malfoy. I'd like to meet your parents."

"Parent," he corrected her. "Dear old dad isn't with us anymore."

She stared at him. "What?"

"He died." Malfoy's jaw was set, and his grey eyes were as hard as the stone he held. Without looking at the lake, he threw it hard at the water. No skipping this time either. "Shortly after the war."

Ginny felt her mouth pop open. It had never occurred to her to mourn for the families that had lost loved ones fighting against them in the war. She stared at Malfoy; he looked very young in his black thermal, staring at her defiantly. It was horrifically easy to imagine him in the black of a funeral suit.

"Don't look at me like that," he said.

"Like what?"

"Like you feel sorry for me." He threw a rock. "I don't want your pity."

Ginny immediately closed her mouth. She hadn't been feeling sorry for him, not exactly. She was glad that his father wasn't around to hurt anyone she cared about. But Ginny realized with surprise that she didn't like the idea of Malfoy losing someone he loved. "How did he die?" she asked. "Your father."

"Picked a fight with a dementor in Azkaban."

"Oh."

Ginny found that she couldn't meet his eyes, and she stared hard at the horizon. Malfoy seemed determined to focus on the lake as well. He threw another series of rocks. When his hands became empty, Malfoy stuffed them in his pockets. "Anyways, it doesn't matter," he said. "He was a bit of an arrogant bastard."

Ginny felt her jaw drop open for the second time today, and she hastened to close it. Malfoy was still staring at the lake. His back was to her, but she could see his reflection in the glassy surface; there was something broken in his eyes. When he turned around, it was gone. "What about you?" he asked. "How did your mother take it?"

"As expected." Ginny shielded her eyes against the glare of the early winter sun, squinting to meet his gaze. "Mum wants to meet you."

"They have met me," he countered. Malfoy seemed more composed now, and he skipped a stone almost absently. Ginny watched as it created eight perfect ripples on the surface of the lake. "In your first year. My father almost beat yours to death in Flourish and Blotts."

"Please," Ginny scoffed. "It was the other way around."

Malfoy let out something like a surprised laugh. His eyes had flown wide, and he spun around. Ginny couldn't help but feel a flush of pride; it wasn't often that Malfoy laughed. "I think your memory's affected, Weasley."

They lapsed into silence for a moment. Ginny's hands had warmed a little from the cloak, and she picked up a smooth stone, spinning it around and around in her hands. Malfoy skipped another perfect throw. Ginny tried to copy his technique to little avail. It splashed once before sinking to the muddy bottom. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Ginny, and she groaned. "I'll still have to meet your mother," she realized.

"Probably." Malfoy shrugged. "At the wedding, at least."

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "That was a horrible proposal."

"Proposal?" Malfoy grinned. "I haven't even met your parents yet. Speaking of which, should I bring some sort of shovel with me?" Seeing Ginny's expression, he raised his hands innocently. "For self defense purposes only."

"You might need more than one." Ginny tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Possibly six. One for each brother."

Malfoy snorted. He threw his latest rock – a small white pebble with a red patch – without looking at the lake. Ginny watched incredulously as it skipped ten times before sinking. "I'll keep that in mind."

"What about me?" Ginny couldn't help but smile. "Any weapons required?"

"Heels."

"Heels?" Ginny stared at him, horrified. "What, and fall down the stairs?"

"I should hope not." Malfoy's voice was even, but there was something lurking in his eyes, an almost impish amusement. "Besides, I hear Brown's giving you some practice anyways."

Ginny felt a surge of panic. "What do you mean?"

Malfoy raised a slim eyebrow. "You're wearing heels to the ball."

"I- what?" she demanded. "Where did you hear that?"

"Would you look at that!" Malfoy examined the watch dangling from his wrist with great interest. It was silver, decorated with green stones rimming the edges. Malfoy shook his head regretfully. "It's time for potions. I'd hate to be late."

He was already striding towards the castle. Ginny stood frozen in shock. She felt as if her feet had become tree roots that were anchored in the soil. It was only after a moment that she remembered how to speak, and she cupped her hands over her mouth, her voice rising hysterically.

"Malfoy!" she shrieked. "_Where did you hear that_?"

He waved a hand behind him.

* * *

><p>"I've changed my mind," Ginny announced. "I'm not going."<p>

Luna made a muffled noise of exasperation. Her face was hidden under the wool of a Ravenclaw jumper, and she was struggling to push her arms through the sleeves. The two girls were hurrying through the corridor towards the Great Hall, and given Luna's current predicament, Ginny was leading. She pulled her friend out of harm's way as Luna barrelled towards a pillar.

"It'll only be three hours." The top of a blonde head peeked through the jumper. "Less, now that we're late."

"Yes, but..." Ginny grabbed her arm as Luna stumbled on a step. "Malfoy's idea of a romantic date is probably visiting the Shrieking Shack."

"Ginny." Luna's head popped through the collar. Her blonde hair fell in messy ringlets around her face, and she was grinning. "You'd love that."

"I don't want to go."

"You promised," Luna reminded her.

Ginny muttered some not-very-nice words under her breath, along with _sneaky Ravenclaws _and _backstabbing best friend_. Luna's smile widened. The two girls paused at the top of the staircase leading down to the foyer. A crowd had gathered by the doors, and students milled in small knots of blue, green, red, or yellow. Ginny was surprised to see a few red scarves mixing with different colors, sticking out like poppies in a sea of dandelions.

"You see?" Luna nudged her. "Inter house unity."

"Don't sound so smug."

"I'm allowed to sound smug." Luna shrugged. "I'm spending the day with Blaise, his best friend, and my favourite person in the world."

Ginny softened. "Luna…"

"Oh." She frowned. "I guess you're coming too."

"Hey!"

Ginny reached out to swat her shoulder, but Luna spun out of her reach, grinning. Ginny leaned against the railing. The sound of laughter drifted up from the crowd, and Ginny's stomach twisted into a knot. There were more couples than she had anticipated. And more couples meant more snogging.

"Why are we doing this again?" she sighed.

Luna tapped her chin. "You told Lavender we were buying dresses."

"Oh, that's right," Ginny said glumly. "Well, I-"

She broke off as she caught sight of two green scarves. Blaise and Malfoy were leaning casually against the farthest wall. Malfoy was wearing black robes, and his blond hair turned him into shadow and light. Blaise sported a set of bottle green ones. Ginny watched as the two, in unison, wrinkled their noses in distaste as Padma and Harry passed. Something about it made her smile.

"I found them," she announced.

"Oh!"

Luna went quiet for a moment, her eyelids flickering. She must have sent a telepathic message to Blaise, because he looked up and grinned. Ginny blinked. She had never seen him smile so genuinely, and she was surprised to find that it softened his face. He had dimples on his cheeks. "Took you long enough," he called.

Several students turned to stare. Blaise pretended not to notice, but Ginny suspected that he was secretly pleased; if he had wanted to be subtle, he would have stuck to nonverbal communication. Malfoy shielded his eyes to look up at them. Ginny felt her cheeks heat up, and she concentrated on not falling down the stairs. When they reached the boys, Blaise kissed Luna chastely on the cheek.

"I thought you'd been eaten by Mrs. Norris," he said.

"Liar." Luna tilted her head back to smile at him. "You knew where I was." She tapped her temple. "You're just impatient."

"Maybe," he agreed.

He leaned forward to kiss her again, this time on the mouth. Ginny turned tactfully away from the couple, pulling a face. Malfoy was watching the spectacle with great amusement. He looked moments away from taking a photo, and when he caught sight of Ginny's dubious expression, he lifted one shoulder.

"You have no idea how rare this is," he informed her, courteously ignoring the entwined pair's loud noises. "Usually Blaise is much more Slytherin. I'm almost embarrassed for him."

He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. Ginny noticed that for the first time, Malfoy looked almost relaxed; teasing Blaise was familiar to him. Ginny fiddled with her hat. She suddenly wished that she had taken Lavender's advice and worn something a little more fashionable than a pair of jeans and an old jumper of Ron's.

"Have you gone mute, Weasley?" Malfoy asked.

"No."

He waited for a moment. When it appeared that she wasn't going to say anything else, Malfoy shook his head. "What a depressing date this is going to be," he lamented. "A brick wall would be better company."

Without another word, he unhooked himself from the pillar, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Luna and Blaise had already started towards the doors, and he fell into step beside him. Ginny lingered for a moment. Her heart was knocking painfully at her ribcage. Her mouth felt dry. Whether Malfoy had intentionally meant to say it or not, it had just become clear to her that this was, in fact, a date.

* * *

><p>"No, really." Blaise was grinning. "Guess."<p>

"I don't know," Luna sighed. "Fourteen?"

"Twenty-seven!" Blaise crowed. "I've been in detention twenty-seven times this month and counting."

The four of them were hurrying along the path to Hogsmeade, their heads bent against the wind. Ginny could no longer feel her frost bitten fingers. She could see that Luna's cheeks were red from a mix of cold and laughing at Blaise's antics. Even Malfoy was chuckling, his usual stern expression relaxing into one of fond exasperation "You're going to lose us the House Cup, mate." He shook his head morosely. "McGonagall hates you."

"She does not!" Blaise looked affronted. "She loves me."

"Sure." Malfoy arched a pale blond eyebrow. "That's why she told you that trolls were less thick-headed than you."

"Oi!"

Blaise reached out to shove Malfoy, but the lean boy was too quick, dancing out of his reach. Ginny blinked. In a moment, Malfoy was on her other side, strolling casually as if he had been there all along. Luna smiled at Blaise, and his eyes went wide before he laughed.

"You're right," he said aloud. "Only his head is even bigger."

Ginny rolled her eyes. Luna must have said something else telepathically, because Blaise was in stiches. Ginny decided to ignore them. Instead, she focused on breathing warm air into her cupped palms. Her fingers gave a protesting tingle before numbing once more. Blaise laughed again, his voice warm and throaty.

"Has anyone ever mentioned how irritating that is?" Ginny sighed.

"What?" He frowned. "My laugh?"

"No, the telepathy." Ginny wrinkled her nose. "Do you only use it to send messages? Like an instant owl?"

"Not all the time." Luna shook her head thoughtfully. "I sometimes check in to see where he is. It's a handy locator."

Blaise looked suddenly alarmed. "You can do that?"

"Sure." Luna looked bemused. "Can't you?"

"No!" Blaise shook his head mournfully. "What if you decided to pop by while I was buying your birthday present? You need to turn it off."

Luna smiled slyly. "You bought me a birthday present?"

She sidled a little closer to him, her blonde curls escaping the hood she wore. Blaise cursed softly under his breath, and she laughed. The corner of Malfoy's lips twitched. He thumped his friend on the back, and Ginny was surprised to see Malfoy smile genuinely at Luna. "Blaise actually put effort into it," he assured her. "And it's not a shriveled hand; it's very non-Slytherin, I assure you."

Luna smiled. "Thanks, Draco."

If Malfoy was surprised by the use of his first name, he didn't show it. Instead, he merely shrugged. Luna laced her hand in Blaise's. She wore white mittens, and interwoven with his black gloves, their fingers looked like keys on a piano. Blaise glanced sideways. "Your birthday's soon," he said, "right, Ginny?"

"Her birthday's not until the summer," Malfoy corrected him, shocking Ginny so badly that she stumbled. Malfoy didn't miss it, and he sighed heavily. "You're a month after Potter's. You never used to shut up about it."

"Oh."

Ginny felt her face grow warm, and she shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. It was true; eleven was her favorite number, and she had always taken the fact that she was born exactly eleven days after Harry as a universal sign that they were meant to be together. She had told anyone that would listen to her in first year that she and Harry would be married in early August; that way, they could celebrate both of their birthdays and their anniversary within two weeks.

"Embarrassed, Weasley?" Malfoy asked loftily.

"No." Her voice was quiet. "Just thinking."

"A rare site."

Luna and Blaise were further up the path, their hoods pulled over their eyes. The wind nipped at Ginny's face, and her eyes were stinging. Malfoy had two red spots on his cheekbones, and his grey eyes glittered. Ginny bit her chapped lips. She was certain that, between the distance and the wind, they were safely out of earshot of Luna and Blaise. "How did you know when my birthday was?" she asked.

"I told you." His voice was irritated. "You used to talk about Potter-"

"That's not what I meant." Ginny shook her head. "I meant how did _you _know? I never mentioned it to you."

Malfoy stared at her. His mouth was parted in surprise, and he seemed to be mentally backtracking, trying to dig himself out of the hole he had created. He didn't speak, but for once Ginny could read the answer on his face: because he had listened. He knew when her birthday was because he had cared enough to find out.

"Ginny! Luna!"

Ginny slowed, turning around to squint through the snow. A bundled figure with wide shoulders was pushing through the wind. Only his eyes and head were visible, but Ginny recognized him immediately: Neville. She hurried to tap Luna on the shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

"Neville!" Luna smiled. "Don't you look…warm."

Ginny hid her smile. Neville was dressed as if preparing for a trek to the Arctic Circle, and as he widened his stride to reach them, Ginny noticed that he was wearing galoshes with layers of socks beneath. Blaise and Malfoy exchanged a weary look, and then seemed to come to the same conclusion that it was best to remain silent.

"Are you going to the Three Broomsticks?" Neville asked.

"Honeydukes, actually," Luna said.

"I'm going there afterwards." Neville was out of breath, and his cheeks were stained a rosy red. "My Gran loves those ice mice."

"Why don't you come with us?" Luna offered. "We'll only be a few minutes."

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw both Blaise and Malfoy stiffen. Blaise's hand was rigid, and Ginny doubted that it was comfortable for Luna to hold. Nevertheless, Luna continued to smile politely, apparently oblivious to her boyfriend's discomfort. Neville looked sheepish. "Actually, I have plans." He ducked his head. "I'm meeting Pansy." He brightened, turning to look at Blaise and Malfoy. "You could come with, if you'd like. I know she hasn't seen either of you in a while."

In unison, both Blaise and Malfoy raised their eyebrows. Malfoy looked confused, as if he'd only just remembered that Neville could speak. Blaise was the first to recover. "We have plans. Tell her that we send our regards."

Neville nodded. "I will."

He gave a feeble wave, and the visible strip of his round face was bright red with embarrassment. Ginny elbowed Malfoy in the ribs. Looking like he had swallowed something sour, Malfoy gave Neville a nod. The Gryffindor boy grinned, hurrying ahead of them, his stride turning into a waddle as his clothes weighed him down.

"Are they together, then?" Ginny asked. "Pansy and Neville?"

"I hope not." Malfoy was already walking once more, and Ginny had to jog to keep up with his long strides. "Although she is quite defensive of Longbottom; maybe he's sort of like a pet."

"I don't think so," Ginny argued. "They seem equally… assertive."

"Maybe." To her surprise, Malfoy looked thoughtful, apparently mulling over her words. His eyes strayed to where Luna and Blaise were chatting happily several feet ahead of them. "Blaise is the same way about Lovegood."

Ginny frowned. "Lovegood?"

"Yeah." Malfoy stared at her. "She's tiny, blonde, slightly parasitic when it comes to Blaise… did you hit your head, Weasley?"

"No," Ginny replied, "but apparently you did. Her first name is Luna. Why don't you use it?"

"I've always called her Lovegood."

"I call Zabini by his first name," she argued.

"How charming." He snorted inelegantly. "You're making friends."

Ginny rolled her eyes, kicking out at a pebble. It skidded across the path, leaping as it rolled over potholes and uneven mounds. Ginny was reminded of skipping rocks on the lake. Her red hair was in her face, and she impatiently brushed it behind her ear. It came loose again, and she growled. "Damn it," she snapped. "Why does nothing ever listen to me?"

Ginny had been referring to her hair and perhaps the occasional brother, but Malfoy seemed to take her frustration as a personal attack. He stiffened. Then, to her complete amazement, he stopped to tuck the piece of hair behind her ear. Ginny froze. His hand felt warm on her cheek.

"I don't know why I don't use her first name," he admitted. "Blaise wants me to, but I…." He cleared his throat uncertainly. "Anyways, I refer to everyone outside of Slytherin by their surname; it would take a very special person to have me address them otherwise."

"Oh." Ginny felt suddenly breathless. "I see."

They stared at one another for a moment. Ginny could still feel the weight of his fingers on her cheek, and the skin he touched felt like fire. She found herself wishing that he wasn't wearing gloves. His grey eyes were steady on hers, and Ginny's stomach twisted into ropes of hot wire.

"Oi! You two!"

Luna's voice carried over the distance. Immediately, Ginny sprang back, whipping around to look at her. They had fallen behind farther than she'd realized, and Luna had to cup her hands over her mouth to be heard. Blaise was giving the pair of them a peculiar look.

"Yes?" Ginny asked.

"Change of plans," Luna announced. "Blaise has a letter to send, so we're going to the post office first."

Blaise looked momentarily surprised, his hand flying to the pocket of his robe. His features twisted into a frown. "How did you…" Luna tapped her head, and he grinned. "Right. I forgot."

"You two go ahead," Luna offered, and when Ginny began to protest, Luna shook her head. "We'll meet you at Honeydukes in an hour. That way Ginny and I can go dress shopping afterwards."

Ginny bit her lip. Malfoy was silent, apparently waiting for her answer, and she found that she couldn't meet his eyes. The lock of hair was still firmly tucked behind her ear. Mentally, Ginny weighed sweets with the prospect of having to spend an hour with Malfoy. Her stomach made the decision for her by grumbling.

"Okay," she agreed. "We'll see you in an hour."

* * *

><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	17. Bitter Sweets

_Author's Note_: Thanks to all of my lovely reviewers! This chapter is uploaded early because I'm in such a good mood lately; not only is it beginning to feel like summer in Canada (a miracle in itself) but I've had some exciting news lately: one of my works, _Lilium Ignis, _is being translated into Russian by Simply al, which is possibly the coolest thing ever! Also, this story is in desperate need of **cover art**, so if anyone out there is interested in designing some, I'd love to hear from you!  
><span>

In the mean time, enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen<strong>

_"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach." - English proverb_

* * *

><p>Honeydukes was packed with students. Ginny had to elbow her way through the crowd, muttering apologies as she went. Assorted rainbow-colored candies lined the walls, and bright yellow taffy as displayed on the counter. A boy was eating a lollipop a little larger than her head. The room was filled with excited chatter, and Ginny had to lean close to Malfoy to be heard over the crowd.<p>

"What are those?" she asked.

"What?" Malfoy stared at her. "The mints?"

Ginny frowned. Her dad had brought home muggle mints before, and these looked nothing like them. They were coloured a cinnamon red, and wisps of smoke curled from the display case. "They look dangerous."

"Weasley." Malfoy was looking at her incredulously. "Don't tell me that you've never had a Deluxe Hot-Fire Impish Mint before."

"My." Ginny raised an eyebrow. "That's a mouthful."

It explained the smoke, at least. Ginny was already moving towards the milder flavours when a hand caught her wrist. Heat flared up her arm. Ginny knew that Malfoy had taken it even before she turned around.

"What?" she demanded.

"I'm not letting you go until you try one," he informed her. "If we have children one day, then they'll be children with good taste in sweets."

"Fine." Ginny rolled her eyes. Her cheeks were still hot from when Malfoy had touched her, and his comment about children did nothing to help matters. Ginny wondered distantly if she was coming down with an illness. "Add two of them to the bag."

"Already did," he said.

"This means that I get four chocolate caramels, though."

"Deal."

He released her wrist. Ginny cradled it to her chest, trying to ignore the dryness in her mouth. She really did feel ill; her face was warm, and she felt lightheaded. Malfoy was already admiring a stock of candy in a nearby display case, and with great reluctance, Ginny followed him.

"What about a Double Cinnamon bomb?" he suggested.

Ginny shuddered. "Definitely not."

"You don't like any of the adventurous flavours," he observed, "do you?"

"Adventurous?" She scowled at him. "They're lethal!"

"If the sweets were lethal, they wouldn't be in a candy shop," Malfoy pointed out, and Ginny was irritated that she couldn't find an argument against his logic. Instead, she turned hastily away from the display case. Her hand darted out to snatch the nearest candy.

"What about this?" she tried.

Malfoy squinted to read the label. "Candy floss."

That sounded relatively safe, and Ginny seriously doubted that anyone could possibly die from it. She gave a sigh of relief. "Well?"

"Weasley." Malfoy was grinning. "All of the ones you're pointing out can be found in a muggle candy store."

Ginny was momentarily distracted. "You've been in a muggle candy store?"

"Of course not," he countered. "I'm guessing you can find them there because they're boring and don't do anything. I mean, really, Weasley: you're a witch."

To her surprise, Malfoy's words didn't carry their usual sting. They were softer at the edges like dulled knives, and Ginny could hear an echo of fond exasperation. He had spoken to her like she had only ever seen him speak to Blaise. She blinked twice. Malfoy, who apparently hadn't noticed anything different in his words, was already studying the next display case. "Now here are some quality sweets."

Ginny peered over his shoulder. Malfoy was looking at an exotic display. The nearest labels read things such as _Vampire Lollipops _and _Hag Suckers_. Ginny hoped that they meant suckers for hags and not suckers made out of hags. She wrinkled her nose. She was about to refuse point blank when she caught sight of Malfoy's expression: it was filled with childish glee that made him look ten years younger than he was. Ginny had never seen him look so thrilled at something save for quidditch matches.

"All right," she agreed, giving in. "You choose half, and I'll choose the rest. Then we each try some of the other person's sweets. Deal?"

"Deal," he echoed.

* * *

><p>"Ginny!"<p>

Luna was on her toes, bobbing up and down to wave at the pair of them enthusiastically over the crowd. Ginny noticed that her friend's lips were swollen. Blaise looked particularly pleased with himself, and Ginny sighed, waving back at the pair. Next to her, Malfoy was smirking.

"We should have saved some of those cinnamon breath mints," he commented dryly. He shifted on the bench so that he was facing her and an empty brown bag was promptly waggled in her face. "It's too bad that you ate them all, Weasley."

"Those were the only decent sweets you chose."

"Liar." Malfoy shook his head. "You didn't mind the peppermint pep-ups."

"They would have been passable if they hadn't dyed my hair pink," Ginny told him. She picked up a limp piece of hair, examining it sadly. The ends were a cotton candy pink, and Ginny was reminded of chewed bubble gum. "Pink was not meant for redheads."

Malfoy made an amused sound. "Vanity is a sin, Weasley."

"You've read the bible?" she asked, surprised.

"Sure." He shrugged. "That's a requirement of the Malfoy handbook. And pride is definitely a sin."

"Maybe," Ginny sighed. She pushed her hair over her shoulders, leaning back against the bench. The curls felt heavy on her lower back. "I haven't got anything on your ego, though; nobody finds you more thrilling than you do."

"True," Malfoy admitted. "But I was taught never to lie."

The afternoon sunlight turned his hair to gold, and the wind had tossed it so that it stood up all over his head, and his cloak was unbuttoned. His grey eyes glittered. He smelled of balsam wood and some sort of salt, an oddly appealing combination, and Ginny couldn't help but notice how much nicer Malfoy looked when he didn't try to make himself look expensive and intimidating. She opened her mouth to speak.

"How was Honeydukes?" Luna chirped.

The tiny blonde sprang up on the bench, settling in between the pair of them. Ginny quickly closed her mouth again. Luna snatched the paper bag from Malfoy, tipping it upside down. She made a noise of disappointment when nothing fell out. Ginny couldn't help but smile. "Malfoy challenged me to a fire breathing contest," she said. "I was coughing flames until a few minutes ago."

"I won." Malfoy leaned back against the bench, propping his hands behind his head. Ginny saw the faint bulge of muscle beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, and her cheeks flamed. Malfoy appeared to be oblivious to her sudden discomfort. "Weasley was terrible. It was horribly embarrassing."

"Never challenge Draco to a contest," Blaise advised her. He was watching his best friend with amusement. "He'll win at any cost."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Definitely."

"I'm stealing Ginny for the afternoon," Luna announced. She had seized hold of Ginny's forearm in a viselike grip and, despite her cheerful smile, Ginny could tell that she had no intention of letting go. "Someone has to tell me how fabulous I look in my dress."

"Pride is a sin," Ginny muttered under her breath, and Malfoy must have heard her because he gave a choked laugh. His blond eyebrows had flown up as if she had startled him into laughing. Both Luna and Blaise ignored them.

"I'll give my opinion too," Blaise volunteered.

"You will not," Malfoy protested. "We're going to the Three Broomsticks."

"Relax, Draco." Blaise grinned, tapping his head. "I'm not going with them."

Luna smiled. Her expression was serene, but Ginny had seen her friend wear that particular expression far too many times to buy it; it was an expression only worn by a Ravenclaw. Luna's eyes flickered to Blaise, and then Ginny understood; Luna was going to throw up mental barricades to keep Blaise from seeing anything. She wanted her dress for the ball to be a surprise.

"Malfoy needs to be watched anyways," Ginny told Blaise. "If he tries anything stupid, hit him over the head and drag his body back to the castle, okay? We'll meet you there."

Blaise eyed her with approval. "I think that I like you."

Malfoy gave a splutter of protest, but Luna was already tugging on Ginny's forearm. The wind tossed her blonde curls into Ginny's face. "We're leaving now," Luna announced. "And no peeking, Blaise!"

The other boy raised his hands innocently. Ginny watched as both he and Malfoy started in the direction of the Three Broomsticks. Despite their differences in coloring, there was something eerily similar about their physicality; the two boys walked with their shoulders squared, and their hands rested in their pockets. Even their strides were the same: purposeful and cool.

"Well," Luna said, shielding her eyes to watch them go. "You can't say that they're not alike."

Ginny nodded her agreement.

* * *

><p>"What do you think?"<p>

Ginny glanced up from her clothing rack. Luna was holding up a ghastly pink dress to her tiny figure, admiring the checked bows and frilly lace collar. It swallowed her frame like a sail did a mast, and Ginny eyed the many ruffles sceptically. She tried not to wince.

"It certainly has a lot of… well, a lot," she remarked.

Luna pouted. "No?"

"No." Ginny shook her head. "Something simpler, I think."

"But this one's _interesting_,"Luna stressed, and she cradled the hideous bundle to her chest as if it was a newborn child. "I like it."

Ginny groaned inaudibly, wishing that she could sink into a nearby clothing rack. Shopping with Luna was painful in an entirely different way than shopping with Lavender, and as much as Ginny loved the girl, Luna simply had awful taste in clothing. It was up to Ginny to minimize the casualties.

"What about this one?" Ginny asked.

She pulled a simple light blue sheath from the depths of the rack, holding it out for Luna's inspection. The other girl wrinkled her nose. "It's boring."

Reluctantly, Ginny hung the dress back on the rack. Luna was still clutching the bouquet of frills to her chest, and Ginny had the sudden urge to knock the garment from her arms. Grimacing, she turned to paw through the racks again. There was the _clack _of heels, and Ginny glanced up in time to see the seamstress materialize at their side.

"Do you need any help, dear?"

Her blonde hair was swept up in a bun, and there was a streak of grey mixed into the bangs. Her feet were stuffed into heels several sizes too small for her, and she wore a fitted blazer and jeans: fashionable muggle clothes. Ginny gave an inward sigh of relief. "Yes," she replied immediately. "My friend and I are here to find dresses for a ball that Hogwarts is hosting."

"I daresay that I've had quite a few students visit for that reason." The seamstress smiled warmly. "Do you have anything particular in mind?"

Luna snapped to attention. There was a spark in her eyes, and Ginny was reminded of a person waking after an _enervate _spell. "I'd like something unusual. Possibly with unicorn glitter or troll skin, although I don't mind-"

"Why don't you choose for us?" Ginny cut in.

The seamstress looked somewhat relieved, and her shoulders relaxed. A clipboard appeared in the crook of her arm. The air around it was shimmering, and she could see miniature holographic dresses fluttering around the clipboard like moths drawn to a light. There was a flash. Ginny blinked, waiting for the stars in front of her eyes to clear. The seamstress appeared to have taken a photo of them, and she was tapping her chin.

"Yes, that's what I thought," she murmured. "Right color, perfect size. Wait right here, ladies. I'll be but a moment."

Ginny waited until the _click-click _of her heels had faded before turning to face Luna. "You weren't really mailing a letter for an hour, were you?"

The blonde looked unabashed. "No."

"Where were you?"

"Madam Pudifoot's," she admitted. "It's the best for snogging. Don't tell Draco; Blaise is terribly embarrassed about it."

Ginny grinned. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Here they are!"

The seamstress appeared once more. She looked slightly frazzled, and strands of hair were escaping her pinned knot. She held two bundles of fabric in her arms, and Ginny swallowed as the first dress was revealed. It was a pale gold number that reminded her of early mornings at the Burrow, where shafts of light streamed in through the window. A long slit ran up the side of the dress, and the bust was well embroidered. It was sleek and streamlined. Ginny could tell immediately that it was meant for Luna.

"Could I…" Luna was gaping at the dress, her mouth slack. "Could I hold it?"

The seamstress offered the dress to her. Luna stretched a hesitant hand towards it, as if worried that it would crumble beneath her touch. Then, she took it with trembling hands. She stroked the material for a moment before turning to Ginny, her eyes glowing.

"I've changed my mind," she announced. "Blaise is out of the picture. I have a new perfect match."

"Try it on," Ginny urged.

She reached out to whack her friend lightly on the shoulder. It was all the encouragement that Luna needed; she scurried towards the changing area, her expression still one of dumbstruck disbelief. Ginny turned slowly back to the seamstress. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her mouth had gone dry. The woman smiled.

"I know what you're thinking," she told her, "and you don't need to worry. I could have told you which one was yours as soon as you stepped into the shop."

Ginny nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The seamstress held the second dress up, and Ginny felt her breath disappear. It was the most beautiful gown she had ever seen; the silky green material matched her eyes, and the train pooled in a waterfall of fabric on the floor. The top was fitted at the bust, and a small band of gold encircled the narrow waist.

"Well?" The seamstress was still waiting for her to speak. "What do you think? Do you like it?"

"Like it?" she echoed, laughing a little. "I love it. I'll take it."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please review! **What do you think of the dresses? And Draco's talking children? I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	18. New Developments

_Author's Note: _I apologize for the incredibly long hiatus (a little more than a month!) and extend my gratitude to anyone patient enough to wait for this chapter; I was studying abroad this month and just got back. The good news is that after visiting England (and famous author's tombs) I'm inspired to write! Expect more chapters soon.

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><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen<strong>

_"A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and man cannot live without love." - Max Muller  
><em>

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><p>"Describe the dress again," Lavender commanded. "In more detail this time."<p>

Ginny groaned. The four girls were seated in the kitchen, circled around a scrubbed wooden table. The surface was laden with treacle tarts and pumpkin pasties. Outside the window, soft flurries of snow fell, and the warmth of the fire crackling in the grate made Ginny feel sleepy. She watched through hooded eyes as a house elf stoked the fire. Hermione pursed her lips as she watched the creature, but said nothing.

"It doesn't change each time I describe it, you know," Ginny informed her friend. "You can see it once they're finished alterations."

Lavender's lower lip jutted out. "But I need to plan your make-up."

"Leave her alone, Lav." Across the table, Parvati snatched a biscuit from the plate and chucked it at her friend's head. Lavender ducked in time for the biscuit to sail into the grate. "Ginny's been over it a million times."

"Don't worry about my hair," Ginny added, already anticipating Lavender's next comment. "It'll be a miracle if you can get it just to lie flat."

She popped a tart into her mouth, chewing on it morosely. Her mop of red hair was pulled back into a messy bun, but wisps still escaped. Strands of frizzy hair curled around her face. Hermione made a noise somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

"You don't seriously want to have a competition to see who has the thickest hair, do you?" she asked.

As if to challenge Ginny, she held out a clump of messy brown curls. It was difficult to see where her fingers were inside of it. Alarmed, Ginny shook her head. "Not in the least. I came down here for peace and quiet, and I intend to keep it that way."

She closed her eyes, tipping her head back so that the flames warmed her cheeks. Someone was chewing on a biscuit, and Ginny could hear the _crunch _of sugar dissolving beneath teeth. The aroma of pumpkins and spice filled the kitchen. Ginny opened her eyes as a house elf set a tray of tea on the table, her tea cosy slipping off of her shoulder.

"That's not right." Hermione was frowning as the creature scurried away. "We should meet somewhere else."

"This is tradition, 'Mione!" Lavender sat up, spraying crumbs as she spoke. "Besides, they like having us here. It must get awfully dull most of the time."

"Maybe," Hermione conceded, but her brow was furrowed. "I still think-"

"Leave it alone." Lavender finished her biscuit and proceeded to lick the crumbs from her fingers. "I want to talk about boys."

"Of course you do," Parvati sighed.

Lavender raised an eyebrow. "Well, why don't you go first then, Parvati?"

"All right." Parvati shrugged, apparently missing her friend's challenging tone. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her long legs out beneath the table. "Michael's actually volunteered to come dress shopping with me if you can believe it."

"No!" Lavender looked horrified. "He can't see you before the ball!"

"I don't mind." Parvati's voice was mild. "He's probably got better taste in clothing than I do anyways."

Ginny couldn't help but feel that was true for many of the Slytherin and Ravenclaw boys; she thought of both Malfoy and Blaise's impeccable wardrobe. Malfoy always wore sleek trousers and crisp shirts, and Blaise never went outside without a silk green scarf. After years of watching her brothers wear jeans with holes in the knees, it was a shock for Ginny to learn that some boys knew what to wear in order to look good.

"What about you, Hermione?" Lavender smiled slyly. "How's Charlie?"

Hermione's cheeks went pink, although Ginny noticed with some jealousy that it was not nearly the crimson shade that ran in the Weasley family. "He's a dreadful dancer," Hermione confessed, "but he does love to try. And he manages to avoid my toes most of the time."

"Cormac's the same way," Lavender agreed. "Luckily there's a simple charm to protect your feet. I can show you, if you'd like."

"Would you?" Hermione looked relieved. "That would spare me the bruises."

"What about you, Gin?" Parvati propped her chin on her hand, swivelling to face Ginny. Unfortunately, the other two girls took that as their cue to stop speaking, and soon all three were staring at Ginny. She mentally cursed her luck as Parvati continued. "How's Malfoy?"

"At dancing?" Ginny waved a hand. "Fine."

"And at dating?" Lavender ventured.

"Surprisingly competent." Ginny shrugged. "He's got dreadful taste in sweets, but it turns out that he's not such a dreadful person himself."

There was a beat of stunned silence. Hermione's jaw had dropped, and Parvati's chin had slid from her hand. Ginny's words hung in the empty space, and she became acutely aware of the warmth in her cheeks. She prayed that the other girls would think it was the heat of the fire. Lavender let out a long whistle.

"That sounded almost as if you didn't hate him," she announced.

"I don't," Ginny admitted. "Hate Malfoy, that is. We're still not mates, though," she added hastily, seeing Lavender's excited expression. "So don't get any ideas."

"Oh, don't worry." Lavender chewed on a tart. "I'm sure you'll get ideas all on your own." As if to illustrate her point, she sucked the cream of the tart very deliberately off the end of her finger. The others burst out laughing, and it was only a few moments before Ginny couldn't help but join in.

* * *

><p>Ginny screwed up her eyes, sticking out her tongue in concentration. Ron always told her that she looked like the gargoyle on the front gate when she focused on something, and although Ginny would never admit it, she suspected that her brother was right. She scrutinized the partially frozen lake, holding out the rock in her hand like a compass that might point the way.<p>

Beside her, Malfoy made an impatient noise. "Just throw it."

"I'm preparing."

"You're procrastinating," he corrected her. "Don't think."

Ginny closed one eye. "Like you?"

There wasn't any malice in her voice though, and Malfoy didn't look particularly offended. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he cupped his palms, breathing warm air into them. His breath condensed in the chilly air. Ginny shivered, pulling her own cloak more securely around her, and Malfoy sighed.

"Throw the bloody thing," he complained. "Merlin, it's too cold for this."

"Exactly." Ginny's teeth were chattering, and the stone felt like ice in her hand. "This could be my last chance before spring."

"So throw it."

"I can't," she protested. "What if it doesn't work?"

"Then you'll find another rock." Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Quit being so dramatic, Weaselette. Even you can't possibly mess this up after months of me teaching you."

Oddly, his words actually made her feel somewhat better. Ginny nodded, and she squared her hips with the lake. The adrenaline was flooding her veins. Her heartbeat was slamming in her ears, and for whatever reason, Ginny couldn't help but feel that she was standing on the edge of a cliff: one step too far, and she would fall. She lowered the stone.

"Oh, bloody hell," Malfoy griped.

Ginny ignored him. "I need encouragement. A prize of some sort."

"How about a warm jumper?" Malfoy glanced wistfully towards the castle. "Or a nice, hot bath?"

"No, something else." Ginny tapped her chin thoughtfully. Malfoy was wealthy, certainly, and he could have bought her almost anything but she didn't want his money. Ginny wanted something that he valued: his pride. Suddenly, it came to her in a flash of inspiration, and she grinned impishly. "I want to call you by your first name."

"Right," Malfoy replied. "And I want a million Galleons and a pet unicorn." He must have caught sight of her facial expression, because he sobered slightly. "Oh, Merlin. You're being serious."

"No complaints from you," Ginny continued. "Including sarcastic remarks."

"Weasley." Malfoy frowned. "You must be mad."

"If you want that hot bath," she said, "then I'll be addressing you by your first name." When his facial expression remained unchanged, Ginny gritted her teeth. "You can use mine as well."

That caught his attention; his grey eyes sparked, machine cogs under pressure, and there was an odd light to them. It made Ginny's insides squirm in both a pleasant and uncomfortable manner, and she felt heat flood her cheeks. She was just about to suggest that they forget about the whole thing when Malfoy stuck out a gloved hand.

"Okay, Weasley," he said. "You have yourself a deal."

"Fine." She shook it. "And no Gin-Gin. I hate that one."

Malfoy looked appropriately horrified. "Please tell me that wasn't a pet name from Potter. I think I might be sick."

Ginny turned back towards the lake, bouncing up and down on her toes to keep warm. Her wrist had moved reflexively into position. The rock felt less like a separate being and more like an extension of her arm, and Ginny was strangely reluctant to let it go. Nevertheless, she released the stone with a flick of her wrist. Ginny counted one, two, and then three ripples before the rock sank to the bottom of the lake. She stared, dumbstruck.

"Weasley?" Malfoy looked bewildered. "Are you all right?"

"I did it!" Her voice was a high-pitched squeal. "I skipped a stone!"

The boy next to her looked amused. "My eyes were working the entire time, Weasley."

"It's Ginny now," she corrected him. "And thank-you… Draco."

They stared at one another for a moment. The entire situation was utterly ridiculous, and Ginny couldn't help but feel that the moment was surreal. Three ripples still spread in perfect discs on the lake. The adrenaline was pumping through her veins like liquid fire, and Ginny couldn't help but smile. It was only when the boy across from her smiled as well that Ginny realized exactly what a crucial moment this winter day had become.

* * *

><p>Ginny had to admit that being friends with Draco Malfoy had its advantages; he was always around to help with her potions homework, and although he had dreadful taste in sweets, Draco remembered to bring boring ones for her when they studied. Ginny teased him mercilessly about failing Divination. In retaliation, he hexed all of her quills to sing loudly during exams. He challenged her in a way that nobody else did, and it both excited and frustrated her.<p>

"Oi!" Fingers were snapped in her face. "Earth to Ginny!"

Ginny blinked, startled. Green eyes were peering at her in amusement. She sat up a little straighter, trying to focus on the boy in front of her. "Did you say something, Harry?"

"I've said several things," Harry sighed. "In fact, I thought that we were having a conversation, but evidently not."

"Oh." Ginny smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

Harry looked down very pointedly at her plate, and Ginny realized belatedly that it was still empty. Students had begun to stand, gathering their cloaks and mittens. The lunch hour was almost over. Luckily, it was a Saturday, which meant that the food wouldn't be cleared for a while yet. Ginny helped herself to some soup with potatoes.

"Was it an important conversation?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "We've got quidditch practice tomorrow." He grimaced. "Angelina's gone mad with the wedding planning, so don't be late; I think she'd do her nut."

"I'll be there," Ginny promised. She popped some of the soup into her mouth. There was a note of sweet coconut and she closed her eyes, savouring it. "What does Fred say about the wedding?"

"I don't think he has any more of a clue than the rest of us," Harry admitted, helping himself to another sandwich half. "Poor bloke."

"Who doesn't have a clue?" Ron asked.

"You, apparently," Ginny commented dryly. "Lunch is almost over. Where have you been?"

"Out."

Ron slid on to the bench. Harry shuffled sideways almost automatically, moving aside as if Ron was merely an extension of himself. Ginny studied her brother. His red hair stood up at the back of his neck, and his mouth was swollen. She hid a smile.

"Who was with you while you were out?"

"Nobody." Ron's cheeks went the same shade as his hair, and he ducked his face towards his plate. Ginny noticed that he refused to meet her eyes. "Just Hermione, actually."

As Hermione had been here the entire time, Ginny seriously doubted this. Nevertheless, she shrugged. "Okay, Ron. Whatever you say."

Something hit her sleeve. Harry had thrown a pea at her, and she frowned, opening her mouth to speak when he put a finger to his lips. Harry tipped his head towards the Hufflepuff table. Hannah was settling in a seat, and her lips were swollen. Ginny grinned.

"Mystery solved," she muttered, and Harry coughed to hide a laugh.

"I need you two this afternoon," Ron said, gesturing between Ginny and Harry with a fork. "Dean's challenged me to Gobstones in the common room. We need four players."

"All right." Harry leaned back, polishing off his sandwich half. Mustard outlined his mouth in clownish yellow. "Padma's out dress shopping with her sister, so I'm in."

"Excellent." Ron's fork swivelled to face his sister. "Gin?"

"Sorry, Ron." She shrugged. "I'm meeting Draco in the library."

Ginny couldn't help but smile; the idea of Draco wanting to spend time in a library on a Saturday was still odd to her, but the Slytherin was surprisingly studious. She supposed it made sense: it took dedication to be at the top of every class. Well, except for Charms; Ginny held first place for that.

"You're what?" Ron demanded.

Ginny glanced up. His eyes bulged alarmingly, and Ginny was reminded of a bullfrog. She leaned back hastily. It wasn't the first time they had a row over Draco nor, she doubted, would it be the last. "Look, Ron, if you have a problem with it—"

"A problem?" Ron spluttered. His face had grown alarmingly red. "Ginny, Malfoy is the Devil incarnate."

"He's not that bad."

"You're blind," Ron argued. "He's… _seduced _you!"

Ginny's face twisted into a scowl. Ron had gone alarmingly red in the face. Harry's head was pivoting between the two of them, and he munched innocently on an apple. Ginny crossed her arms over her chest.

"It's to study," she said coolly. "And I'm going."

Ron turned an odd puce color. "I forbid it."

"And I really don't care."

Ginny jumped up abruptly, knocking Harry's plate from the table. The dark-haired boy looked at the spilled remains of his meal morosely. Ginny was too irritated to care; he would have sided with Ron. Both boys hated Draco, and for no reason other than because they felt they had to. Ginny swung her book bag over her shoulder as she turned to leave.

"Enjoy your lunch, boys," she retorted. "Unless someone forbids you from eating it; because then you would stop, obviously." And then Ginny left without a backwards glance.

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><p><em>Author's Note: <em>I hope that made up for the long wait. Please leave a **review**! What do you think of the first names?


	19. Draco

_Author's Note:_ In order to atone for my long hiatus, I've posted yet another chapter! This was one of my favorites to write, because it meant that I got to explore Draco's head for a little while (spoilers: it's not always a pretty place to be). Please read and let me know what you think!

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><p><strong>Chapter Nineteen<strong>

_"A person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended." -Ian McEwan  
><em>

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><p>Draco was about to give up and leave the library when Ginny Weasley stormed in. Her red hair was escaping from the knot at the back of her head, and her cheeks were stained red with irritation. She threw her books down on the table with force, and Draco almost smiled; it was like watching a kitten pretend to be a tiger.<p>

"Sorry," she apologized breathlessly. "Ron kept me."

"I saw." Draco propped his feet up on the table. "He looked like he was about to do his nut." Ginny practically fell into the chair across from him. She gave him a pointed look, and Draco reluctantly replaced his feet on the floor. "What did you do to make Weasel king so upset?"

Ginny began to search through her book bag. "I told him I was meeting you."

Draco wasn't particularly surprised; Weasley looked like he wouldn't mind accidentally poisoning Draco's food most of the time, and the feeling was mutual. Thanksgiving dinners each year were going to be a bloody nightmare. Hopefully, Draco could convince Ginny to take precautions such as flame-retardant clothing and puking pastels. He had the feeling the Weasley's weren't going to take kindly to him.

"Merlin," Draco sighed. "I've tried for years to make Weasel that upset and you've gone and done it accidentally. I'm embarrassed."

Ginny bit her lip, and he had the feeling she was trying not to smile. "I know how to get on Ron's nerves. I've had years to understand his brain."

"What brain?"

"Draco!" Ginny protested, but she was laughing. Draco felt his blood freeze, and then he relaxed; it was still strange to hear her say his first name. Ginny had missed his reaction as she dug through her book bag. "Every time you insult my brother, I feel obligated to turn you into a little pile of ash."

"You wouldn't," Draco assured her.

He tried to focus on his Potions essay, but the words were swimming off the page. Draco could smell Ginny's vanilla perfume and a floral scent that reminded him of the countryside. She levitated a feather almost absently as she worked, making it to a bizarre pattern of flips. Privately, Draco knew that he wouldn't get any studying done; he could never concentrate with Ginny around.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

Ginny's head snapped up. Draco had meant it as an innocent question, but she covered the title of the book defensively. "Nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing," he commented dryly. "It looks like a book."

"Obviously."

He waited a moment. When it became clear that she wasn't going to say anything else, Draco leaned back in his chair. "Gryffindors," he snorted. "You lot guard every bit of spare rubbish like it's precious metal."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Did you just call my book rubbish?"

"Maybe."

Draco studied her carefully. Red hair escaped the loose knot at her neck, and strands curled around her chin. She reminded Draco of a painting at the Manor – a muggle one that his mother had purchased a few years ago, much to his father's irritation: _La Scapigliata_. Da Vinci could have painted the girl before him into life with the same sweet, serene expression.

Ginny looked like the last person on earth who could keep a secret and yet, she was clearly hiding something. Draco wanted to know what it was. Ginny must have guessed what he was planning to do, because she tensed.

"Draco…" she warned.

Draco flung himself across the table. He had spent many years tiptoeing around the Manor, and it had left him with the silent reflexes of a cat. He snatched the book from her hand in one quick motion. Ginny made a dive for it, but Draco was faster, and he retreated several paces away to read.

"Give it back," Ginny demanded.

Draco flipped open the book. He had been expecting a romance novel, but it was clearly a textbook, and none that he had seen before. The first page was filled with complicated squiggles that he guessed were spells. He turned back towards Ginny, frowning.

"Blimey, what is this?" he asked, bemused. "It sounds like mermish."

"Standard Book of Charms, Year Seven." Ginny was gritting her teeth, as if the admission was difficult for her. She flung her arm out towards him. "You've had your fun, now."

But Draco wasn't done; he couldn't seem to equate the petite redhead standing before him with the impossible diagrams in the book. He thumbed through the first chapter. The spell work only became increasingly more complicated. "This is yours?"

"Are you kidding me?" Ginny laughed, but there was something feeble about it, like she was pushing it up through her throat. "It's an old one of Charlie's."

Even if it hadn't been obvious that Ginny was lying, Draco had seen her name scrawled on the inside of the cover in loopy handwriting. It was undoubtedly hers. Draco shook his head. "Nice try, Ginny."

The girl before him flushed red. She seemed to be weighing her options, and Draco saw her eyes dart towards the door. Ginny took a deep breath, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay, it's mine," she admitted. "Can I have it back now?"

"All yours."

Draco tossed it to Ginny, and she caught it with the reflexes of a Chaser, cradling it to her chest. He had always secretly thought that she was better than all of the Chasers on the Slytherin team, although he would have never admitted it. Ginny didn't thank him, and Draco wasn't expecting her to; he sat back down in his seat.

"Who else knows about this?" he asked, beginning to levitate the feather that she had discarded. Ginny took her seat again. When she spoke, her voice was deadly serious.

"Nobody knows," she told him. "Not my family, not my friends, and not even Professor Flitwick. I'd like to keep it that way."

The feather fell to the table. Draco stared at her, open mouthed. Ginny's eyes were trained on the table, and he was glad that she couldn't see his expression of complete astonishment. The girl was a Charms prodigy; Ginny could have had a scholarship to whatever program she wanted. Draco swallowed, weighing his words carefully.

"I don't understand why you wouldn't tell anyone," he said. "You could graduate Hogwarts, if you wanted to."

Ginny was already shaking her head, sending her red curls flying. "That's the point," she argued. "I don't want to be the freaky girl who graduates early; I just want to be normal. It's what I've always been."

"But if you did-"

"People already stare at me," she continued, interrupting him. "They stare because I skipped a _year _of Charms, Draco; can you imagine if I skipped three?"

There was desperation written all over her face, and Ginny's hands were clenched around the textbook so tightly that the blood had drained from her knuckles. She really thought that he was going to tell somebody. Draco had to admit that it made sense; he had never given her a reason to trust him. Still, the idea settled uncomfortably in his stomach, and Draco felt like his insides had knotted together.

"I won't tell anyone," he promised, and Ginny's death grip on the textbook relaxed. "It just seems a shame that your skills are going to waste."

To his surprise, she grinned. "Well, if you ever need a tutor in Charms, you know where to find me."

Normally, Draco would have politely refused the offer; Malfoy's were too proud to ask for charity, and certainly not from Weasley's. On the other hand, Draco had been tutoring Ginny in potions for weeks now. If her mind was an untapped mine, Draco intended to search for diamonds.

"In that case, if you would just help me with this…" Draco pushed his textbook across the table, indicating the first few pages. "And this… also this…"

"Stop," Ginny commanded, but she was smiling. "You've already pointed out an entire chapter."

"Oh."

"Show me again," she sighed. "Slower this time."

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><p>Ginny gave a hesitant knock on the door. She hopped up and down on the balls of her feet, trying to avoid the icy grip of the tile. The dungeons were cold at night and she wished, not for the first time, that she had thought to put on a jumper before visiting the Slytherin common room. She would have to remember that for next time.<p>

Her breath came in harsh spurts, echoing around the empty corridor. Adrenaline surged through her veins. _I will not turn around. _The chant became a mantra, and she clenched her sweaty palms. _I will not turn around, I will not turn around…_

The door swung open.

Ginny gave a squeak, her gaze falling to the floor. Blaise Zabini leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his bare chest. Pyjama bottoms were slung low on his hips. He looked almost amused at her reaction, and the corner of his mouth twisted into a smirk.

"Lost, Gin?"

"Um, no." Her cheeks were on fire. "I was hoping that Draco was around, but obviously you're all asleep. I'll just go."

Ginny wheeled around, hurrying in the same direction that she had come. It was only when Blaise called her name that she turned around. He was definitely smirking now. "It's fine," he said. "Draco's been in a foul mood anyways; he could use some cheering up."

"Thanks," Ginny sighed. "I owe you, Blaise."

"Just don't let Pansy see you," the tall boy warned her. "She'll have my head."

Ginny trailed Blaise into the common room. It was virtually deserted save for a few neatly stacked textbooks. A fire burned low in the embellished grate, spitting flames of emerald green. Everything in the room was decorated in black and silver; sleek, presumably expensive furniture was placed strategically throughout the room. Ginny let out a low whistle.

"I don't know if I'm impressed or intimidated," she admitted.

Blaise shrugged. "Both, probably."

She followed him down a short corridor to a very blank wooden door. It was sunk into the wall and rimmed with silver, but otherwise bore no decoration. Ginny thought of her own door in Gryffindor Tower; it was plastered with photos of friends and family, and spells to make colourful lights turned on whenever she entered. The blank door stared at her, empty.

"This is Draco's room?" she clarified.

Blaise nodded. "And mine."

"Oh." Ginny bit her lip. She realized with acute embarrassment that Blaise would probably be there for the conversation she and Draco were about to have, and that was the last thing she wanted. "Were you sleeping? We can go somewhere else, if you-"

"It's fine," Blaise said, waving a hand as she began to protest. "I have a Potions essay anyways. You can wait in there for Draco."

Ginny frowned. "He's not here?"

"He went outside to sulk," Blaise explained, looking torn between amusement and genuine concern. "You know how he is."

Ginny nodded. She _did _know how Draco got when he was in a temper, and it wasn't pretty: he became obsessed with whatever task was on hand. Ginny had seen him polish the entire Slytherin team's collection of brooms, brew an entire chapter worth of potions, and sort his photographs chronologically. It was best to leave him alone.

"Thanks." Ginny's hand was already on the door handle. Blaise had already begun to walk away when she called out. "And Blaise?"

"Yeah?"

"Choose some decorations for your door," she advised him. "I've seen what Luna is planning and it's horrifying."

Ginny slipped inside the room, cutting off the sound of Blaise's laughter as she closed the door. The bedroom was as utterly bare as the door had been; two beds lay neatly against the wall, a green blanket folded neatly on each. A silver trunk emblazoned with the respective family's crest stood at the foot of each bed. The room bore no windows as it was underground, and low lamps provided a dim green cast.

The only object in the room was a folded piece of parchment on the desk. The corners were worn from use, and it looked disjointed and out of place in the spotless room. Ginny drifted closer. The seal on the letter was a loopy M: Malfoy. Almost unbidden, Ginny's hands picked up the letter, and then she was reading it.

_Draco,_

_ I won't sugar coat it, darling: I'm worried sick about you. I'm beginning to fear that all of Dumbledore's nonsense has been corroding your mind. My sources inform me that you have been seeing a lot of Ginevra Weasley– Draco, darling, you must remember where she comes from. I must admit that I don't understand your new friendship: you've expressed your dislike for the Weasley girl on more than one occasion._

Ginny took a moment to breathe. Her eyes stung, and she had to consciously remind herself that Draco hadn't seen his mother since summer holiday. She, too, had disliked Draco then. Ginny began reading again, more cautiously this time.

_I will make myself quite clear: I dislike the Weasley family, and I dislike the Weasley girl. They're improper and barbaric. If your father was here… well, he would put an immediate end to this, Merlin rest his soul. Nevertheless, I insist that you avoid the Weasley girl._

_Do write back soon, dear,_

_Mother_

_P.S. I received your most recent letter, and I couldn't agree more. The entire situation is unjust; I'm calling in every favour that I can to find you another arrangement. Perhaps the Ministry will reassign you with someone at Beauxbatons_

Ginny read the letter once more, her heart in her throat. Her eyes still prickled painfully, and she scrubbed at them with the back of her hand. She wished that she had never read it, and now that she had, the words had burned themselves on to the backs of her eyelids. Ginny sunk down slowly on the bed.

Draco was going to find another arrangement. He didn't want to marry her; in fact, he'd rather take his chances and marry a complete stranger.

The door handle turned.

* * *

><p>Draco wondered if he would ever sleep again. His bones felt like they were dissolving into dust, and he was vaguely aware that his walk had slowly become a lifeless shuffle. His mind was still spinning from his walk. The night air had temporarily refreshed him, and Draco could smell the brine of the lake and the peppermint of winter clinging to his jumper.<p>

"Hey!" Blaise sat up as he entered the common room. "You're back."

Draco threw his cloak on the couch. "Unfortunately."

"How was the walk?"

"Disappointing," Draco grunted.

"How cheerful." Blaise set his quill on the table. There was an expression on Blaise's face that Draco had seen before; it was the same one Blaise wore when giving motivational speeches before a quidditch match. "Listen, mate…"

"Can it wait?" Draco was already moving towards the dorm room, his feet dragging like led weights. "I'm exhausted."

"But-"

"Tomorrow," Draco interrupted. "I promise."

He trudged down the short length to the doorway. It was blissfully blank, just as he liked it, and Draco pushed into the room. Immediately, there was a _thud_. Draco blinked. Ginny Weasley sat rigidly on his bed. Her red hair was escaping its braids, and her fist was clenched.

"Ginny," he sighed. She was the last person Draco wanted to see right now, and he massaged his temples as his head gave a particularly painful throb. He wished that he had listened to Blaise's warning. "Look, it's nice to see you and everything, but I'm not in the mood. Can you..."

Draco cut off as he caught sight of her expression: guilt and regret. His eyes fell to her fist. For the first time, he noticed a bit of a parchment sticking out like a budding flower, and he felt his heart sink.

"Did you read it yet?" he asked.

Ginny darted forward. "Here." She forced the paper into his hand, wincing as if it was an animal that had bit her. "Take it."

The hurt was written all over his face, and Draco felt like his heart had solidified, turning into stone. His hand clenched into a frustrated fist. He should have hidden the letter in one of the desk drawers, or beneath his bed. Hell, Draco reflected, he should have burned it when he had the chance. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Why," he ground out, "do you have to be so damn curious?"

"I don't know."

Her words came out as a mortified whisper, and his eyes snapped open. Ginny's thin arms were wrapped around herself, and she was biting her lip, just like she always did when she was nervous. The flickering green light cast shadows across her face, and it made it difficult for Draco to guess what she was thinking.

"Right." Her voice was strained. "I'll just be going, then."

Ginny pushed past him towards the door. As she passed, Draco felt something wet on his shoulder, and he touched the fabric of his cloak incredulously. She wasn't… surely she wasn't…

"Ginny?" He stared at her. "You're not… _crying_?"

"No."

Her voice cracked. Draco's heart twisted painfully, and he was by her side in a second. His arms ached. He wanted to hold her, to crush her to his chest and reassure her that it would be okay. But Ginny would hate him for it; surely, if Draco was the one causing her pain, he was the last person she wanted comfort from. His arms hung uselessly at his side.

"For Merlin's sake," he murmured, and his voice came out rough and unsteady. "Talk to me, Gin."

"Why?" She had ducked her head, and it made Draco desperate to see her expression: he was lost unless he could see what she was thinking. Ginny's words were blows. "You're not supposed to talk to me."

"That doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it?" Her voice had lost its usual ferocity, replaced with an aching sadness that cut Draco to the bone. She was calm, resigned. "I don't regret reading that letter. At least I know now that your mother hates me."

Draco flinched. He wasn't going to lie to her; Narcissa did hate Ginny. Not that he had been expecting otherwise, but Draco had hoped that his mother would at least accept the situation with grace. However, it seemed that Narcissa was prepared to fight with teeth and claws until the Ministry relented. Draco couldn't help but think Narcissa would force him to marry someone else instead of Ginny; worse, that Draco would be given the choice between Ginny and his claim to the Manor.

"You're quiet because it's true," Ginny whispered. "Your mother hates me. You both hate me."

Draco's mouth fell open. There was no accusation in her words, only a dull resignation. Ginny truly thought that he hated her. He could feel the tension hanging in the air, a thick mushroom cloud, and his shoulders slumped. "Ginny, I don't hate you."

"Then explain the part about the new arrangement." Ginny gestured to the letter. "Because I don't understand."

"I sent the letter to my mother right after the announcement." Draco grimaced, remembering the event; the common room had been in an uproar. Blaise had been shattering bottles, and Pansy had been sobbing into a sofa cushion. Draco had remained shackled to a desk, a calm island in the midst of the storm. He had bled the ink on to the page. "I was angry."

"We all were."

"Exactly." He sat down on the bed beside her, massaging his temples. "I thought that you'd understand how desperate I was."

"But surely…" Ginny bit her lip, and she looked torn between wanting to believe him and yet unable to let herself. "It's been a while since the announcement. Your last letter must have been more recent."

"I told you." His voice came out taught. "My mother never writes, and I reciprocate the warm sentiments."

It was horribly ironic, Draco reflected, that Narcissa chose to write at the precise moment he had wished that she would remain silent. His mouth twisted upwards in grim amusement. Ginny was studying his face very carefully, the same way that he had seen her study her Charms spells, and it was both unnerving and strangely attractive.

"You feel differently now, then," she observed, and it wasn't a question. "We're friends." Something about the last word made Draco want to cringe, but he nodded nevertheless.

"Blaise wouldn't have let you into the room otherwise."

There was a moment of silence as Ginny digested this. To his surprise, she let her head fall on to his shoulder. Draco stiffened and then relaxed. He could smell the vanilla coming off of her red hair in waves, and her breathing was warm and steady. A fire started in the pit of Draco's stomach, and he was suddenly more upset than ever that she had used the word _friends_.

"I always feel so lost," she whispered. "I don't know what we're doing. Is it even possible for a Slytherin and a Gryffindor to be friends?"

"I don't know." His mouth felt dry, and Draco was relieved to find that his voice came out steady. "But I'm willing to find out."

Ginny tilted her head sideways to look at him. "Did you write your mum back?"

"Yeah." Draco snorted. "I told her that if she couldn't be bothered to write back for a month, then it was certainly none of her business. Besides," he continued more seriously, "nobody is allowed to insult you but me."

"You're a git," Ginny told him, but she was smiling. A bubble of relief expanded in Draco's chest. Ginny blew the red bangs out of her eyes. "And distracting. I should go back to the Tower before Ron storms down here with an army in tow."

Draco scoffed. "I'd like to see him try."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Please **review! **What did you think? Should there be more chapters from **Draco's perspective**? I'm open to thoughts!


	20. Christmas

_Author's Note: _I apologize for taking the world's longest (accidental) **hiatus **ever! My laptop decided to take a swim in the lake (entirely selfish of it, I know) and thus, I couldn't get much writing done. Unfortunately, my old laptop has now retired to the laptop graveyard, but I do have a new one to write on! I hope this chapter makes up for all the waiting :) **Thank-you** to all my patient readers!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty<strong>

_"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time." - Laura Ingalls Wilder  
><em>

* * *

><p>Ginny leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs at the ankle. Next to her, Draco was scribbling notes, his careless loops and dashes smudging over the page. His blond head was bent close to the desk. Up at the front, Professor Flitwick was demonstrating a Concealium charm.<p>

"Pay close attention," he was saying. "The enemy is carelessness."

Draco took a break from his notes to watch the professor purposefully. Ginny feigned a yawn, and Draco frowned at her. She smiled innocently. At the front of the classroom, there was a pop, and the professor disappeared from his stool. The class erupted in cheers.

"Bloody hell," Draco swore. "I missed it."

"You've seen me do it," she reminded him.

"I haven't, actually." Draco was examining his notes with an intent look. "That's the point of the spell; you disappear."

Ginny hid a smile. She hadn't missed the note of irritation in his voice mixed with a grudging respect, and it was oddly flattering. It took a lot to impress Draco Malfoy. Ginny had played this trick on him enough times that it had lost its novelty, but none of its effectiveness. There was a flash of blue as the professor reappeared. The excited chatter of the class had reached alarming levels, and it was only after several moments and a sonorous spell that Flitwick regained their attention.

"Take this spell slowly," he advised. "It's trickier than any that we've covered before. That includes you, Ms. Granger," he added, and Hermione looked sheepishly disappointed. Flitwick clapped his hands together. "Everyone partner up!"

Ginny immediately turned towards Draco. He was still studying his notes with a morose expression, as if he had written down Ancient Greek and then discovered that he couldn't understand it. His wand lay untouched on the side of the desk. Ginny twirled her own absently in her hand.

"Pick up your wand," she instructed. "I'll demonstrate."

Draco's eyes flicked to her face, as if she had surprised him. She had been doing that more and more lately, ever since he had discovered her skill at Charms. "You're not supposed to know how to do it," he reminded her. "Even Granger hasn't figured it out yet."

"Hermione," Ginny corrected him automatically.

"I'd rather cut off my hand."

Ginny sighed, but pushed the issue no further. She tapped her wand on the desk, and gold sparks flew from the end. "I'm going to cast a few spells to make things more difficult. It should slow me down."

He looked almost amused. "Must you?"

"Yes."

"What a shame." Draco leaned back in his seat, crossing his long legs at the ankle. "I was rather hoping you could turn me invisible and I could steal Longbottom's hat."

Ginny rolled her eyes. She was about to respond when she was interrupted by a loud string of curses. She jumped, following Draco's eyes to where Millicent Bulstrode stood seething. It appeared that she was paired with Dean Thomas., who was staring in amazement at where Millicent's hand should have been. He had apparently managed to only vanish part of her.

"That was my hand, you idiot," she hissed.

"I noticed." Dean looked like he was struggling not to smile. "Does this mean that I don't have to ask for your hand in marriage?"

A few students tittered, their nervous giggles oddly loud in the silent classroom. Millicent's wand was spitting sparks. The knuckles on her freehand were white with anger, and without warning, she clawed Dean across the face. Her fingernails left crescents in his skin.

"Pig," she spat.

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Slytherin."

"Muggle-born."

"Self-centered."

"Merlin." Millicent's eyes were blazing. "You're so… you're so…"

"What?" Dean demanded.

The two students were fuming. Dean's hands were fisted at his side. Nearby, Flitwick was hovering uncertainly, his wand aloft. He seemed to be debating whether restoring Millicent's hand was detonating or exploding a bomb. Ginny exchanged a grin with Draco. Millicent's voice was a shriek.

"You're so infuriating!"

And then, as if the world had suddenly gone mad, Dean bridged the gap between the two of them and kissed Millicent. She froze for a moment before responding with equal eagerness. The room was still with shock. The money that had been exchanged was quickly passed back; nobody had bet on this outcome. Next to her, Draco blinked.

"I think I'm hallucinating," he said absently, more to himself than to her. "I do hope that your spell work hasn't damaged me permanently."

* * *

><p>As the Christmas holidays drew nearer, Hogwarts came alive. Ornaments were levitated to the tops of the great fir trees that decorated the Great Hall, and ghosts hummed carols in the corridors. Professor Sprout adorned her gardening tools with tinsel that sparkled different colors depending on the soil quality. Ginny found herself wishing that time would speed up so that she could go home to the Burrow; she hadn't spoken to her parents since the matching, and she missed her mother terribly.<p>

"Are you absolutely certain that you need to go to class?" Luna asked her. The two girls were hurrying through the corridor, their shoes making clicking noises on the marble tiles. "What do you have?"

"Potions," Ginny sighed. She pictured Snape's sneer as he noticed her empty seat. Even if she had been vomiting and half-dead, Ginny would have dragged herself to potions class to avoid Snape's wrath. "I can't miss it."

"Don't you want to spend the afternoon with me?"

"Of course," Ginny said, affronted. "But it's not worth dying for it."

"I'm sure Draco could talk to Snape for you." There was a smile playing about Luna's lips, and she seemed to be choosing her words very deliberately. "If you asked him nicely."

"I'm sure he could," Ginny agreed. "But he wouldn't."

That much was true; there was probably something in the Malfoy handbook about respecting authority. Luna deflated slightly. "Please, Gin? I'd ask Blaise, but he's left early for holiday."

"I'm second choice?" Ginny gasped, mock-outraged. "I'm hurt!"

Luna went to poke her in the stomach, and Ginny danced out of the way, avoiding her hand. Luna caught her in the thigh instead. Both of them were giggling, out of breath from running, and Ginny glanced wistfully towards the staircase leading to the doors. It would be so easy to leave. They could go to Hogsmeade and get some Christmas shopping done, or visit Charlie. But then she pictured Snape's face again and the month worth of detentions.

"I'd better get to class," she sighed.

"Oh, all right." Luna gave her a fleeting hug. "Stay out of trouble over the holidays, yeah?"

Ginny raised an innocent eyebrow, and Luna laughed. She hoisted her book bag and gave Ginny one last salute before disappearing through a door. Ginny began walking backwards, calling out as she went. "I'll see you later, Lu! Remember to-"

The breath went out of her as she hit something solid. Ginny stumbled, pitching forward, and strong hands wrapped around her shoulders. The touch sent electric sparks across her skin, and she swung around. Draco Malfoy was looking down at her with something akin to amusement.

"Late for class?" he drawled.

"Maybe I'm skiving off."

"I doubt it." Draco grinned. "You Gryffs are adorable. You're known for bravery, but I've never seen Granger or Potter miss a class."

"You're such a typical Slytherin," Ginny complained, but there was no force behind her words. She crossed her arms, blowing the red hair out of her eyes. "But yes, I'm late, so if you'll excuse me…"

She made to move past him only to smack into something else. It was like running into concrete. Her nose throbbed, and she clutched at it, her eyes watering in pain. Ginny blinked, but she saw only empty space stretching out in front of her. Carefully, she stuck her hand out in front of her. It pressed against a smooth wall. A feeling of dread knotted in her stomach.

"Draco," she said, "I can't move."

"Is it really that hard to go an hour without seeing me?" The blond smirked down at her. "Really, Ginny, you have to try."

Ginny hissed out a breath between her teeth. "Draco, I'm being serious."

He must have heard something panicked in her voice, because the smile disappeared. Draco took a step forward and was immediately shoved backwards. His eyes narrowed. He tried again, more forcefully this time, only to be thrown back with equal strength. Ginny was torn between relief that she wasn't going mad and disappointment that he couldn't move either.

"What the hell is going on?" she snapped.

The corridors were clear of students. Classes must have started already. It was with a twisted sense of irony that she realized that she was skiving off of potions after all, and Draco was being forced to witness it. Ginny pursed her lips.

"What are we supposed to do?" she demanded.

"Rot here." Draco's expression was deadpan. "Give up all hope."

Ginny stared at him. "Are you trying to be funny?"

Draco looked hurt. "I am funny."

"This… is… serious!" Ginny punctuated each word with a kick to the barrier. Her toes were bruising, but she kicked harder each time. Snape was going to kill her. Snape was going to chop her up and use her as potion ingredients. "If I knew how to get out of here-"

"You do."

Draco's words were certain, and Ginny stopped abusing her toes to look at him in amazement. He was smirking, but it looked half-hearted, and there was a pulse jumping in his throat. If she didn't know better, Ginny would have said that he was nervous.

"Look up," he suggested.

With some trepidation, Ginny tipped her head backwards. Her blood froze. A bushy plant was curling around the ceiling, and vines slithered around them like snakes. Ginny cursed under her breath. "It's mistletoe, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

Ginny closed her eyes. It would have been fine if it was muggle mistletoe, but Ginny would have bet ten galleons that it was enchanted. Wizard mistletoe was different; it had rules. You couldn't leave until you had kissed the other person underneath of it. Ginny's palms began to sweat, and she prayed that Draco hadn't noticed the heat rising to her cheeks.

"I see," she managed. "Do you just want to-"

She was cut off as Draco kissed her. Ginny froze, rigid with shock, as his arms slid around her waist. Electric sparks exploded where he touched her, and she gasped, her lips parting in surprise. He tasted of mint and chocolate. Her body melted into him, and then she was drowning in sensation. He murmured something that sounded like her name, and she pulled him closer, sighing.

They both felt the enchantment break at the same time. Ginny had been leaning against the barrier, and she stumbled. Her arms were still wrapped around Draco's neck, and they fetched up against a wall, still tangled together. Ginny immediately sprang back. In vain, she attempted to straighten her crooked tie. Draco was smirking.

"Enjoyed yourself, then?"

"It's not funny." Ginny tucked her shirt primly back into her skirt. "What if my brother had seen us?"

"Weasel king?" Draco didn't look nearly as upset by the prospect of Ron walking in on them. In fact, he looked as if Christmas had come a week early. "What a pity that would have been."

"He would have been furious."

"I'm still waiting for the problem," Draco told her.

Ginny glared at him, scooping up her book bag. Draco was studying her, rocking back and forth on the balls of his heels. His blond hair was tousled where her hands had pulled at it, and his lips were red and swollen. He must have caught her looking at them, because he winked. Ginny's face was on fire.

"I'm going to class," she announced, spinning around. "Have a good holiday."

"Ginny?" His voice carried down the corridor. Against her better judgment, she paused, glancing over her shoulder. Draco was still leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed in his pockets. There was a smile playing on his lips. "It's cute when you moan."

"Git!" she cried, launching a quill at him. Draco dodged easily, laughing, and Ginny forgot all about potions class and chased him down the corridor. She already regretted wishing him a happy holiday.

* * *

><p>The amount of people staying at the Burrow for Christmas was astounding. The thick knot of students was gathered at the platform, clutching luggage and scarves. Most of the Weasley children had brought their future spouses, minus Ginny and Ron, the former for obvious reasons and the latter because Hannah had fallen ill. In her place, Ron had invited Harry, who had been more than happy to oblige.<p>

"Blimey, there are a lot of us." Harry shifted his baggage, and his glasses winked as he swiveled on the spot, a dark head amidst the sea of red. "We've got practically the whole quidditch team here."

"Don't let Angelina hear you say that," Ginny warned him. "I wouldn't put it past her to schedule holiday practices."

She bounced on her toes, trying to catch a glimpse of a balding head, a thin face, and glasses. George was helping Katie with her luggage, and Fred was pushing Angelina in a trolley at full speed around the platform. Charlie's head was bent towards Hermione. Her thick brown hair hid their conversation from view.

"Ginny!"

Her head snapped up. Molly was bustling towards them, wiping her hands on her jumper. Flakes of sugar dusted the wool, and when her mother embraced her, Ginny could smell warm vanilla and cinnamon clinging to her. She must have been baking Christmas cookies.

"How are you, dear?" Molly pulled away, smoothing Ginny's hair. "Have you been stressed? Are you eating enough?" She poked Ginny's side, frowning. "You're awfully thin."

"Mum," Ginny groaned.

"Well, you are." Molly's eyes narrowed. "Is it that Malfoy boy?"

"No. Now please stop fussing," she complained.

"I wouldn't have to if you would just write once in a-"

"Mum!"

To Ginny's relief, Ron darted bravely in between the women, wrapping his arms around their mother. Molly immediately began to cluck over the state of his hair. Ginny let out a long breath. Over Molly's shoulder, Ron gave her a look that clearly said you owe me, and Ginny offered him a small smile.

"To the Burrow!" Arthur had an arm thrust around each twin, both of whom were squirming in his embrace. Apparently oblivious to their struggles, Arthur grinned, pulling his sons close to his side. "Biscuits and tea await."

* * *

><p>"Ginny!"<p>

Something soft smacked her in the head. Ginny groaned, rolling over to bury her face in the warm sheets of her bed. The pillow hit her back this time. Ginny cracked open an eye, squinting through her lashes. The room was still pitch dark. It was early morning; much too early to be up yet.

"Gin, wake-up." The voice was female. "It's Christmas!"

The word was like a shock of energy. Ginny threw back the covers, struggling into a seated position. Hermione was perched on the end of her cot bed, her bushy hair braided into two plaits. She wore fluffy white slippers on her feet. Ginny sprung from the bed, ignoring the cold floor on her bare feet. She shrugged on robes over her pajamas.

"Have I missed everything?"

Hermione shook her head. "They're waiting for us."

"Good."

Ginny dropped to her knees, scrambling under the bed for a hair tie. A flurry of movement caught her eye, and she blinked. Hermione's slippers were not white as she had originally thought; up close, Ginny could see a whirl of snowflakes and shooting stars. Tiny snowmen formed and then disappeared, lost in the storm.

"Are those new slippers?" she asked, straightening.

"Charlie gave them to me." Hermione wiggled her toes. "They're charmed to stay warm."

"They look like advanced magic."

"They are," Hermione agreed happily, and Ginny couldn't tell if the other girl was more excited about the present or the spellwork itself.

Their feet made slapping sounds on the rickety wooden staircase. Hermione was struggling into a jumper, her head lost in the bundle of wool, and Ginny was tugging on slippers as they went. The living room was packed. Molly was bustling around, insisting that everyone have hot cocoa and biscuits, or tea at the very least, and Arthur was looking on fondly. Someone - Fleur, Ginny suspected - had strung twinkling fairy lights across the low ceiling.

"Finally!" Ron threw a bow at Ginny's head. "It took you long enough."

"Prat," she retorted, but she was grinning.

"Merry Christmas, Gin." Harry ruffled her hair affectionately as she collapsed next to him, stretching her legs out in front of the fire crackling in the grate. The flames reflected off of Harry's glasses. "Sleep all right, then?"

"Better than I have in ages," she admitted.

"Me too."

Something passed between them - almost an understanding of sorts - and Ginny gave him a small smile. The last time they had been at the Burrow together, Ginny had fancied herself in love with Harry. She had studied the uneven fringe of his hair, the lines around his mouth, and the way his eyes were a darker green towards the centre. Now, Ginny could still see those things, but she no longer looked for them. Something had changed.

"Do you miss Padma?" she asked.

"No." Harry shrugged. "My lips are chapping from snogging; I needed a break."

"Harry!"

She picked up the bow that Ron had thrown at her and stuck it on his forehead. Harry pulled a face. The combination of the sagging ribbon and his comical expression was too much, and Ginny burst out laughing. Harry rolled his eyes. "All right," he said. "I miss Padma. Happy now?"

"Never."

"Well," he said, "not without Malfoy."

The comment caught her by surprise. To her embarrassment, Ginny felt heat rush to her cheeks. The memory of his mouth on her's came rushing back to her with sudden clarity, and she bit her lip. Harry was watching her curiously. Ginny picked at a thread in her jumper.

"What makes you say that?"

"I have eyes." Harry looked almost amused. "I've seen the way that you look at him."

"And you're not..." Ginny hesitated. "Angry?"

"I'm not thrilled," he sighed. "But I suppose-"

"Oi! You two!" Ron threw another bow at them. "We're opening presents now."

There was a flimsy paper crown dangling from his head, and it must have been enchanted because Ron's hair had turned green. His grin had swallowed his entire face. Ginny ducked her head to hide a smile; suddenly, she could see a much younger boy reflected in his eyes, and she thought of the year that Ron had accidentally enchanted the tree to sing carols and neither Arthur nor Molly could figure out how to turn it off.

"Weasley, catch!"

Ginny's head snapped up as a yellow parcel barreled towards her head. Her body responded automatically; her hands flew up, snatching the package in midair. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and she let out a huff. Angelina was cheering.

"That's my chaser!" she announced. "That girl plays for me."

"What did you get me?" Ginny massaged her sore stomach. "A pile of bricks?"

"Open it," Angelina prompted. She was leaning against Fred's knees, a pile of brightly-colored parcels resting on her lap. Katie was adding more to the pile. "It's from both of us. Well, mostly just me; Fred's suggestions were lethal."

"Not lethal," Fred argued, his voice wounded. "Just explosive."

Ginny leaned back. "Should I be opening this outside?"

"Open it now!" Angelina demanded.

It turned out that Ginny needn't have worried; the present was merely a quaffle for her to practice with. By mid-morning, her haul was impressive; Hermione had given her a book, and Lavender, a bag of chocolate frogs. Parvati had charmed a hairbrush to sing the Weird Sisters. Luna had given her a calendar featuring shirtless Quidditch players with a note that read don't tell Draco.

There was only one present left that was addressed to her. Ginny's palms were slick, and she wiped them hastily on her pajama bottoms. The parcel was wrapped in sleek green paper, and a delicate silver bow rested atop the lid. Her name was written in a messy scrawl: a boy's writing. Holding her breath, Ginny ripped open the gift.

A bag of Honeydukes sweets fell into her lap.

Ginny could see cinnamon bombs, vampire suckers, peppermint pep-ups, and a host of other adventurous flavors that she would never eat in a million years. Her heart sped up. It could only be from one person. She flipped over the card, her lips twitching into a goofy smile.

_Ginny,_

_Hope your holidays are well. I had some help choosing this gift from a certain Malfoy; he seemed to think that you would appreciate it._

_Blaise_

Ginny stared at the card for several seconds. The tiny printed words seemed to stamp themselves in her mind, playing over and over again. Blaise had sent the gift; Blaise had asked Draco for advice. And yet, there was no present under the tree addressed to her from Draco. Ginny thought of the parcel she had mailed to the Manor a few days ago and cringed involuntarily. How stupid she had been.

"Ginny?" Molly was peering at her worriedly. "Is everything all right?"

"Fine."

"You look a bit peaky, dear."

"Must be the mistletoe," she muttered.

"There's no mistletoe in the Burrow, darling," Molly reminded her. "Percy's allergic."

"I know," Ginny said, but that had not been the mistletoe that she was thinking of at all.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Please **read** and **review! **Should the next chapter be from Draco's perspective? I have the scene planned and it involves pajamas and a surprise... both perspectives would certainly be interesting to say the least!


	21. Open Doors

_Author's Note_: Thanks to all of the kind reviews from the last chapter! I should be updating regularly from this point on, which should work out to be roughly twice a month, as I'm attempting to finish my Hunger Games fic (a.k.a. Where The Heart Lies) Please enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-One<strong>

_"There are so many doors to be opened, and I'm not afraid to look behind them." - Elizabeth Taylor  
><em>

* * *

><p>"Sausage, dear?"<p>

Molly Weasley held out a platter of meat to her daughter, her face pinched with concern. Ginny shook her head listlessly, staring at her plate. Her breakfast had become a single tower of mush. She had mutilated her eggs, and the toast was soggy and brown. She continued to push it around her plate, watching as the bread soaked up the juice from her grapefruit.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips. "Try to eat a little toast."

"Okay."

"And have some orange juice," her mother directed.

Under the watchful gaze of her mother, Ginny lifted the glass to her lips. She could hardly taste the juice. Apparently satisfied, Mrs. Weasley toddled off to reprimand Charlie for turning Percy's hair blue. Next to her, Hermione offered Ginny a sympathetic smile.

"His owl probably got lost," she murmured. "You know how far the Manor is from here."

Ginny grimaced. She hadn't realized that she was that transparent. Hermione offered her a consoling pat on the arm before engaging Angelina in conversation. The captain was already organizing teams for an impromptu Boxing Day quidditch match, and Ginny privately thought that it would be a miracle if Hermione got a word in.

There was a knock on the door.

"That'll be Arthur back with the turkey for tonight," Mrs. Weasley announced. Her hands were laden with heavy platters of toast and muffins, and she looked imploringly at Ginny. "Can you get that, darling?"

Sluggishly, Ginny rose from her seat. She yawned, stumbling blindly towards the front door. Her lingering feelings of regret and humiliation had kept her awake for most of the night, and her appearance today was suffering for it. Her hair stuck up in red tangles around her head. The navy sweater that she wore had a cartoon reindeer on the front of it.

Ginny wrenched open the door. "Honestly, Dad, can't you just-"

She broke off. Draco Malfoy stood on her front door step.

He was dressed in a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled to the forearm, and his hair was damp from showering. She could see tendons snaking up his arm. His biceps, toned from quidditch, pushed against the material of his shirt. Draco was carrying two bouquets of lilies, red and gold, and he grinned crookedly at her. Ginny blinked, certain that she was imagining him.

"What the bloody buggering hell?" she said aloud.

"That's my warm greeting?" Draco looked almost amused. "Bloody hell, Ginny."

She couldn't stop staring at him. Somehow, her feverish mind couldn't make sense of the situation. Draco Malfoy, lavishly dressed, was standing in front of her run-down house. The sheer ridiculousness of the idea made her want to say something. "You're standing on my doorstep."

"Well, I could have flooed into your fireplace," he said, "but I didn't think that your brothers would take my sudden appearance very well."

"You're here."

"I am," he agreed.

"At my house."

"I hope so." When she didn't respond, Draco passed her the red flowers, positioning them carefully in her arms with gentle hands. "Merry Christmas, Gin."

And it hit Ginny all at once. Draco's present to her was not the flowers; it was the fact that he had come to her house. Draco was willing to enter a den filled with hostile red-heads to see her over Christmas. He had been brave enough to do what she couldn't: meet her future mother-in-law. Words niggled at the back of her brain, a memory long-forgotten, and Ginny could hear her own voice speaking the words.

_Mum wants to meet you._

"Did you bring six shovels?" she asked, her mouth twisting upwards into a reluctant smile. "One for each brother like I suggested?"

"It turns out that there's a shortage of gardening tools in mid-December," he said, casting a pointed glance to where a thick blanket of snow covered the lawn. "Go figure."

"Ginny, dear?" Mrs. Weasley's voice floated from the kitchen. "Can you bring the turkey?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. His expression was calm, but the plastic wrap crinkled beneath his tensed fingers. Ginny stepped aside and Draco entered the Burrow, looking as if he had covered himself in bacon and walked into a lion's den. Ginny darted ahead of him.

"Mum," she said, breathless. "This is-"

"Sodding Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed.

Her brother was staring at the pair of them, aghast. His spoon hovered half-way to his mouth, and milk dripped onto the table in fat droplets. Dozens of eyes swiveled towards them. Hermione looked surprised, and Harry, resigned. Angelina looked excited at the prospect of adding a Slytherin seeker to her roster. Ginny cut her eyes to her mother. Mrs. Weasley's mouth had popped open. Behind her, the eggs were burning.

"Mum," Ginny warned. "The breakfast."

Her mother snapped to attention. "Evanesco."

The pan was emptied. A thick silence fell, and Ginny suddenly wished that the pan was dirty so that she could scrub it by hand. Every second that ticked by was a blow to her heart. When it became clear that nobody was going to speak, Draco took a step forward. He offered Mrs. Weasley the flowers.

"These are for you," he said.

Her mother looked taken aback. "For me?"

"Of course."

Mrs. Weasley touched a petal softly, admiring the lilies. Ginny doubted that she had ever been given flowers before by one of her oblivious sons. Draco glanced sideways at Ginny, clearly bewildered by her mother's reaction, and Ginny had to hide a smile. It was probably a rule in the Malfoy Etiquette Handbook to always bring flowers when visiting someone's home.

"That's incredibly thoughtful of you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, and if Draco was ruffled by her term of endearment, he didn't show it. "Ronald, a vase, please."

Ron looked chagrined. "But mum-"

"A vase, Ronald."

Draco had to duck his head to hide his smirk, and Ginny stepped on his toe when nobody was looking. Grumbling beneath his breath, Ron stomped into the kitchen to locate a suitable vase for the lilies. Her mother was already fussing over Draco, piling heaps of bacon on to a plate for him, and Ginny was pleasantly surprised to see that Draco took it with good grace.

"Thank-you, Mrs. Weasley," he said.

"Call me Molly."

"It looks delicious." Draco's knife and fork danced across the plate, a practiced calculation. She wondered how many dinner parties he had been forced to sit through before. "The fruitcake is amazing."

"A family recipe," Mrs. Weasley confessed, delighted. "I'll have to teach Ginny to make it."

Ginny rolled her eyes. The charm oozing from Draco's words was almost overwhelming, and her mother was soaking it up like an absorbent sponge. Ginny had forgotten how pleasant Draco could be when he wanted to; he was very rarely polite, and then only when he wanted something. But Merlin help those who fell victim to his charm. She took a seat beside him at the breakfast table, trying to appear unruffled by his sudden appearance.

"I can't believe there's a bloody Slytherin in my kitchen," George muttered, and Ginny elbowed him hard in the side. Her brother rubbed his ribs indignantly. "What?"

"Play nice," she hissed, and when Draco smirked, she elbowed him in the side too.

* * *

><p>"Oi, Malfoy!"<p>

Draco's head snapped up. Blaise stood in the doorway of their dorm room, grinning from ear-to-ear. The lucky sap had gone to Dominica over the holiday, and he looked darker than Draco remembered. He was carrying a broom in one hand and what looked like a cage with a squirming ball of fur in the other. Automatically, Draco's hand shot to his wand.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Draco demanded.

Blake held the cage protectively to his chest. "It's just Cetus."

"It's fluffy," Draco said, horrified.

"He's a Christmas present from Luna." Blaise set the ball of fur down in the middle of the room, beginning to unpack his trunk. "A Golden Snidget."

"Aren't those extinct?"

"Endangered," Blaise corrected him loftily. "Luna found him in the jungle."

Draco stared at him. "So we're harboring a stolen endangered animal in our room."

"That's about the size of it, yeah."

Draco groaned inwardly. Lovely; if Lovegood got him expelled, there would be hell to pay. Cautiously, Draco approached the cage. The creature was a honey gold with red eyes, and it was flitting around the cage, colliding randomly with the bars. Cetus was round, and it was absurdly comical to watch him turn in a circle to see where he was going.

"Are those pajamas?" Blaise asked, bemused.

Draco glanced down. He was wearing white cotton trousers slung low on his hips, and his bare feet peeked out from beneath the fabric. A glance in the mirror told him that his hair was sticking up in all directions. Between his potions essay and charms paper, Draco had forgotten to change.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "So?"

"It's three in the afternoon, mate."

He rolled his eyes. "I can read a clock."

"I'm just saying-"

Blaise was cut off by a knock at the door. Eager to escape Blaise's scoldings, Draco yanked it open. Ginny Weasley stood in the doorway. Her wide eyes took in his appearance, running from his chin to his waist, and then her eyes fell to the floor. Her cheeks were filled with color, and Draco gave an inward grown. He loved it when she blushed. In the portraits that lined the walls of the Manor, all of his ancestors had the same complexion: sour buttermilk. But Ginny had a flame inside of her that spread to her cheeks, and it was so tempting to explore it that Draco had to forcefully remind himself that Blaise was still in the room.

"You're in your pajamas," Ginny said.

"Why," Draco sighed, "is everyone so concerned by my pajamas?"

"They're very nice pajamas."

"Come in, Weasley," he said, shaking his head.

Draco stepped aside, allowing Ginny to hurry into the room. The red was fading from her cheeks, and she grinned when she saw Blaise. His best mate let out a whoop of surprise, throwing Ginny over his shoulder. She laughed, yelling half-hearted complaints. Draco felt his stomach twist into a knot. He gritted his teeth. It was just Blaise; he didn't mean anything by it.

"I came by to thank you boys for the gifts," Ginny said, breathless. She teetered slightly when Blaise set her back on her feet. "Even if both were potentially lethal."

"Exaggerations," Draco scoffed, and her smile eased the pressure in his chest.

Her gaze fell to where a picture frame rested on the wardrobe. It was heavy, lined with solid wood, and Draco had been impressed that Ginny's owl could carry it all the way to the Manor. Inside the frame, Ginny and Draco were dangling twenty feet off of the ground, hovering above the quidditch pitch. Ginny was laughing so hard that she was almost falling off of her broom. His own grey eyes were bright, and he was watching her with an expression that Draco didn't recognize on himself. Almost fondness.

"I'm glad that you liked it," Ginny told him. "I wasn't sure that you would."

"Who took it?"

"Hermione." Ginny grinned. "I would have asked Ron..."

"But then the picture would have been either Weasel King or I unconscious," Draco finished for her, taking a seat on his bed. "Clever."

"I thought so."

They stared at one another for a moment. Something had shifted between them, and ever since Christmas, Draco could no longer guess what Ginny was thinking. Sure, there were the obvious expressions: embarrassment, anger, and glee. But there was something that she was hiding from him; something that Ginny didn't want him to see. He just had to figure out what it was.

"So." Blaise cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Who wants to hold Cetus?"

* * *

><p>"You're so slow," Ginny grumbled.<p>

She and Draco were hurrying through the corridors, tearing around pillars and dodging statues. Ginny had Draco's sleeve in a tight grip, and she was leading him to the grounds. Well, not leading; frogmarching, she thought, amused, was perhaps more accurate. Draco was matching her pace grudgingly but with little effort. His longer legs gave him the advantage.

"Why are we going again?" he asked.

"Because." She tugged him down the steps. "It'll be fun."

"I can't believe that your idea of fun is being assaulted with targets."

Ginny rolled her eyes, but didn't correct him. It had taken a large amount of pleading on her part to convince Draco to come to the annual Hogwarts snowball fight. What had begun as a Gryffindor tradition had quickly spread to a school-wide event, and Ginny had enlisted Blaise's help to persuade Draco to attend. Between her beguiling and Blaise's threats, they had managed to convince him.

"Haven't you ever had a snowball fight before?" she asked.

"Merlin, no." Draco looked horrified. "Malfoy's don't frolic in the snow."

"Well, Weasley's do." Ginny couldn't help but smile as she remembered their many battles as children. Ron had always cowered behind a snow-wizard as Bill threw snowball after snowball at his youngest brother. He had shown Ginny only slightly more mercy. "I always won."

"Liar," he scoffed.

Ginny stuck out her tongue. "You forget who you're talking to."

"Dear me," Draco said, raising an eyebrow. "I've created a monster."

"Ginny! Draco!"

Ginny's attention was stolen by Luna, who was waving at them from the edge of a massive crowd of students. Her blonde hair was plaited, and she wore a puffy blue jacket. Blaise stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist and his hands buried in her pockets. Ginny wrinkled her nose. The two were disgustingly adorable sometimes.

"Hurry!" Luna called. "We're about to start!"

Luna didn't seem at all surprised by their late appearance; clearly, Blaise had warned her about Draco's reluctant participation. Ginny tugged Draco over to where they stood. She launched herself at her friend, abruptly knocking Blaise back a few steps.

"Happy birthday, Lu!"

Luna looked pleased that she had remembered. "Blaise gave me your present." She lifted her hair, revealing a pendant with a small, growing tree inside of it. "I love it."

"I would have given it to you myself," Ginny sighed, "but I had to make sure that a certain Slytherin didn't try to slip away from the snowball fight."

Here, she cut a pointed glance to where Draco and Blaise were speaking a few feet away. Blaise was grinning widely, and Draco appeared to be congratulating him on something, chuffing his arm affectionately. Ginny opened her mouth to ask Luna what Blaise had given her for her birthday before deciding better of it. Judging by Blaise's glee, she didn't want to know.

"What did we miss?" she asked instead.

"Nothing, really." Luna was practically vibrating with excitement. "Wands allowed. Don't kill anybody. We start at the third spark."

She spoke the words as if reciting from a rulebook. In reality, Ginny knew that the tradition had started with Fred and George goofing off, and that the only rule was that there was no rules. She was sure that her brothers would be horrified by the idea of a rulebook. She doubted that they had ever read instructions for anything before.

A spark exploded.

Luna squealed. "There's the first one!"

Ginny tilted her head back, watching the explosion of red and gold. It was beautiful: a mid-afternoon star among the cloudless blue. As a second spark shot up, she saw Draco and Blaise pull out their wands. The boys had begun to inch back towards them, and Ginny realized too late what was happening. With a shriek, she took off in the opposite direction. Luna was hot on her heels as the third spark hit the sky.

"Run!" she cried, giggling. "They're on to us!"

Charmed snowballs flew every which way. Ginny saw Ron crouching behind a transfigured snow fortress and smiled to herself. Some things never changed. She sent a snowball flying his way with a lazy flick of her wand. It hit Ron square in the back of the head, and her brother spluttered, wheeling around. Ginny was already gone.

She had lost Luna somewhere in the thick crowd. She weaved in and out of bodies, dodging assaults and attacks. A shimmering snowball, pulsating with light, skimmed her hair and Ginny ducked. She watched as it collided with Alicia's head. The other girl's hair turned an unbecoming shade of pink. Nearby, Neville was launching snowballs that sang Christmas tunes. Ginny suspected that this was more of an accident than intentional, and she offered him a sympathetic smile as she breezed by. Her legs had begun to burn, and she stopped, gasping for breath. Draco hadn't caught her. She was safe. She was-

Something rammed her from behind and Ginny toppled forward.

Handfuls of wet snow were stuffed down her robes, and her skin prickled at the cold. She shrieked in surprise, wriggling beneath her attack. Ginny managed to roll over just in time for Draco to shove snow into her face. Ginny spat it out, her blood still racing from her run. Before Draco could react, she pinned his arm, reversing their positions before he could cry out.

"Merlin." Draco was panting, surprised. "You're bloody quick, Weasley."

"I told you." She grinned. "I like to win."

"You have fast reflexes."

"I'm a chaser," Ginny explained, pushing his shoulders firmly into the ground. "It's a requirement." With gleeful delight, she smeared a fistful of snow from his temple to his chin. "Do you admit defeat?"

"Never."

Lightning quick, Draco flipped her over, trying to regain the upper hand. Ginny yelped. She could feel his the hard muscles beneath his t-shirt. He was undoubtedly stronger, but she was faster, and she squirmed out of his grasp. He frowned, reaching for her. Ginny laughed as she dodged his advances.

It wasn't long before Ginny found herself buried in the snow again. Draco was on top of her now, his grey eyes dark. His breathing was harsh and erratic. Ginny was panting too, and they stared at one another, their faces flushed. Draco's mouth was inches from her ear.

"Say you surrender," he murmured.

"Never."

"Tell me, Ginny."

His breath was hot on the cool skin of her neck, and she shivered. His heat was radiating through her. She could feel his taught muscles, tensed, beneath the flushed skin of his arms. She raised her chin, daring him to come nearer. Her hand moved experimentally across his stomach, and she felt his muscles jump beneath her touch. His face was inches from her own. Draco's eyes were almost black.

"Ginny..."

There was a resounding bang.

The fourth spark was released into the sky, exploding in ribbons of blue, red, green, and yellow. The game had been called to an end. All around them, snowballs fell like cannon ammunition, falling silently to the ground. As if he had been burned, Draco leapt to his feet. Ginny stared up at him, confused.

"Draco?"

There was an unpleasant realization on his face. "I know what you're thinking about, now."

Ginny blinked, confused. "What?"

Draco opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Without another word, he turned back in the direction of the castle, his feet crunching in the snow. Ginny watched him go, dumbstruck. Then, with a heavy heart, she fell back against the snow and watched the clouds roll in until her breathing slowed again.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Ooh another unhappy ending! What is Ginny thinking about? What's up with Draco's **bizarre behavior**? I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	22. Silence

_Author's Note: _Wow! A regular update? A post that's actually on time? Yes, I assure you that this is in fact a chapter update. I saw _The Maze Runner _this weekend and was therefore inspired to do some writing. If you haven't seen that movie yet, go check it out. I was pretty impressed. In the mean time, please enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Two<strong>

_"Silence is the sleep that nourishes wisdom." -Francis Bacon  
><em>

* * *

><p>Ginny wasn't stupid; she knew that Draco was avoiding her.<p>

Three weeks had passed since the snowball fight and he hadn't spoken a single word to her. It was as if he was doggedly determined to ignore her. Draco pretended not to notice when she waved from across the corridor; he skipped any plans they had previously made, and the occasional meal. When Ginny saw him in between classes, he looked tired and drawn. She had tried talking to Blaise, but the Slytherin had only offered her a tight smile.

"Give him time," he had suggested. "Draco likes to stew, but he'll come round eventually."

Ginny had given him almost a month, now. She didn't know how much longer Draco needed, but his peculiar behavior was bloody irritating.

"Gin? Are you listening to me?"

Hermione waved a hand in front of Ginny's face, her forehead pinched with worry. Ginny sat up straighter, blinking rapidly. There was a quill resting in her hand, and when she looked down, there was a parchment with words in her handwriting. Had she been writing before?

"Sorry," she said. "Could you repeat that?"

Hermione sighed. "I have. Twice."

"Oh, quit bothering her." Lavender hardly looked up from her WitchWeekly, absently flipping a page. "Ginny's been in a right state for almost a month now. She just needs to talk to him."

"Well, it's not bloody likely," Ginny growled. "It's like I've contracted a contagious disease."

Parvati rolled over on her bed, propping her chin up on her hand. Her thick hair was falling out of its plait, coiling down her shoulders in dark sheets. "Something must have happened."

"Nothing." Ginny frowned, staring hard at the parchment in front of her. It looked like her Potions essay. She couldn't remember starting it. "We were wrestling-"

"You were what?"

Parvati's mouth had fallen open. Lavender set down her magazine, staring at Ginny with hungry eyes. Ginny felt heat rush to her cheeks. "Not like that," she protested quickly. "We were just mucking about after the snowball fight."

"Let me guess." Lavender was smirking. "His breathing was heavy."

"Yeah." Ginny pulled a face. "We were running before."

"And then he was on top of you," Parvati surmised, grinning. "Lying down."

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest. "So?"

To her surprise, all three of her dorm mates burst out laughing. Lavender threw her head back, howling at the ceiling, and Parvati smothered her giggles with a pillow. Even Hermione looked mildly amused, ducking her head behind her Potions textbook to disguise her laughter. Ginny frowned.

"What?"

"Have you ever fancied someone before, Gin?" Lavender asked, her voice coy.

"Of course." Ginny stuck out her tongue indignantly. "I fancied Harry for years."

"Oh, Merlin." Her friend collapsed back on her bed, throwing her arms dramatically over her eyes. "You're hopeless. The both of you."

Ginny had a feeling that Lavender was referring to her and Draco, and she immediately decided that she didn't want to know why. She was about to return to her Potions paper when there was a soft, insistent tap on the window. All four girls drew their wands reflexively, an impulse left over from the war. Something large was hovering outside, shrouded in the darkness of the night. Cautiously, Ginny unlatched the window.

She recognized the owl immediately. The Malfoy's bird ruffled its feathers importantly, displaying its leg. With quick fingers, Ginny untied the letter. Her heart was thumping almost painfully against her ribcage. It bore the Malfoy crest. Lavender, who had spotted the seal as well, leapt to her feet.

"Open it!" she urged. "Or I'll do it myself."

Ginny bit her cheek. Before she could change her mind, she flipped open the letter. The loopy scrawl was recognizable but not immediately familiar, and Ginny's heart plummeted. It wasn't from Draco.

_Ms. Weasley,_

_It is with great reluctance that I write to you. I will not pretend to tolerate your family or your surname, but it appears that my son has cultivated a friendship with you. While I have my doubts, his tireless claims that you are, indeed, worthy of the Malfoy name has convinced me to offer you a chance. Please consider this an invitation to join us at the Manor for the summer holidays._

_I've informed Draco and I have no doubt that he will be most pleased._

_Sincerely,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Ginny stared down at the letter in her hand for several seconds. Draco's mother was waving a white flag. While Ginny had no delusions that the two of them were going to spend quality time baking cookies, it was certainly a start. Her eyes scanned the last few lines again, and she swallowed. Ginny was pretty sure by the way that Draco was acting that he would certainly not be most pleased to have her invade his house.

"Well?" Lavender was trying to read the letter over her shoulder. "Who's it from?"

Ginny pitched the letter into the rubbish bin. "It's not from him."

And that was all there was to be said.

* * *

><p>The shadows were creeping over the walls as Ginny left dinner. Next to her, Lavender was prattling on about the ball the following evening, describing in detail the Sleekeazy potion she had purchased for her hair. Ginny concentrated on their muffled footsteps. She didn't want to interrupt her eager friend, but she also didn't want to hear about the ball. One more description of a dress and she might hex somebody.<p>

"Where are you meeting Draco?"

Ginny was jerked from her thoughts. "What?"

"You know." Lavender rolled her eyes. "Your date?"

Ginny frowned. If Draco was planning to go to the ball, he hadn't mentioned it to her, and she shrugged noncommittally. "We haven't decided yet."

"Well, decide soon." Lavender's voice was firm, but she nudged Ginny gently. She nodded her head towards a descending staircase. "Look, there he is now."

Ginny twisted around so quickly that her neck kinked. A blond head was disappearing down the steps to the dungeon, his broad shoulders squared. Even if Ginny hadn't seen the green of his robes, she would have known who it was. She muttered a word of thanks to Lavender before chasing after him.

"Draco!" Her voice echoed off the stone walls. "Draco, stop!"

He continued to determinedly ignore her, widening his strides until she had to jog to keep pace with him. Ginny growled under her breath. Curse boys and their stupidly long legs. She shoved her mess of red curls behind her, doubling her pace.

"Draco!" And then, out of habit, "Malfoy!"

He froze. Ginny skidded to a halt, almost crashing into him. Draco turned around. For a moment, he looked almost stricken, but he schooled his features into neutral indifference. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"We've moved past that," he said, and Ginny laughed humorlessly.

"Really?" she asked. "Because it feels like I'm back to yelling at you from across corridors."

She crossed her arms over her chest. In the dim light filtering in from the window, Draco's face was bathed in sickly green. His blond hair was tousled, and there were tired red veins forking through his eyes. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"What do you want?"

"What do I-" Ginny raised her eyebrows, incredulous. "I want to talk."

"We are talking."

"Brilliant," she snorted. "How acutely observant of you."

"What should I say?" Draco demanded, and Ginny thought that she saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes. Anger. That was good; it meant that he was feeling something, at least. "Should I tell you that I'm sorry? That I've been busy? Do you want me to pat your head and make you feel better?"

"You're a bastard," she hissed.

To her surprise, Draco laughed. "Exactly."

There was something in his words that held a hard grain of truth. Ginny frowned, concentrating. Whatever he was hiding was so close that she could taste it. It was like trying to hold cupped water in her hands; rivulets kept escaping through the cracks between her fingers until there was nothing left. She narrowed her eyes.

"Tell me," she said.

He laughed again, harsh and grating. "No."

Ginny kissed him.

The force of her attack had caught him by surprise, and Draco stumbled backwards, taking her with them. Their bodies collided with the cold rock of the wall. Her hands were locked around his neck, forcing him towards her. His lips were stone, and for a terrifying moment Ginny thought that he wasn't going to reciprocate. Then, Draco broke.

He growled low in his throat, flipping her around so that she was trapped between him and the wall. It was nothing like their first kiss. Draco was no longer careful with her. His hands were everywhere at once, sliding up and over hips, and she pressed their bodies together. Ginny could feel the erratic beating of his heart through her chest. His skin was flushed. She could taste the mint on his mouth, and her head fell back as his lips went to her neck.

He kissed the skin from her shoulder to her jaw, and she had to lean against the wall for support. Her hands had fisted in his t-shirt. Somehow, Ginny had managed to relieve him of his robes, and she could feel the muscles jumping beneath her fingers. His grey eyes were dark.

"Tell me," she murmured.

Draco's lips were against her throat. "No."

"Why not?"

"I can't," he said, and his breath was hot against her ear.

With a growl of frustration, Ginny ducked out from beneath his arm. Her heart was pounding, and she could feel hot blood pooling in her cheeks. She was sure that her hair was a tangle of red curls. She felt small, much smaller than she ever had before, as if his rejection had shrank her several sizes. Ginny crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the ball," she said, and her voice was hard.

"Fine."

"And for Merlin's sake, Malfoy..." Ginny shook her head. "I have to marry you, okay? But I don't have to love you. And if you don't give me a reason to, then I won't."

She left him standing alone in the corridor, a shadow in the dingy green light.

* * *

><p>Ginny stared at her reflection in the vanity. Her hair was in red knots, and her lips were chapped and bitten. Her freckles looked less endearing and more like somebody had taken a paintbrush and flicked mud at her face. She buried her face in her hands. The ball was in an hour, and she had no idea what she was doing. She'd be lucky if she didn't trip down the stairs in her heels.<p>

The bathroom door creaked open, and Ginny shot up. "Lavender! I need your-" She broke off, taking in her friend's appearance. "Whoa. Somebody's all dressed up."

Lavender looked uncharacteristically nervous. Her small hands were pulling at the short hem of her dress, which covered her arms in white lace. Her blonde hair had been swept up into a bun, and two curls escaped the knot and framed her face. Ginny's jealousy was quashed by Lavender's tentative smile.

"Do I look okay?" she asked. "I mean, do you think Cormac..."

"He'll love it," Ginny assured her. "Trust me."

Lavender's shoulders relaxed, and she began to pull on slender nude heels. Ginny glanced at her watch. Forty minutes left. Her dress was still hanging in her closet; she hadn't had the heart to put it on yet. In fact, climbing into her pajamas and hiding in her four-poster was starting to sound strangely appealing. Lavender glanced up from her shoes.

"You're not going like that, are you?" she demanded.

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest. "What's wrong with this?"

"Ginny Weasley." Lavender pursed her lips. "You need to dress up for a ball."

"I grew up with six brothers." Ginny shrugged. "I was a ghoul for Halloween once; that's the closest I've come to dressing up."

Lavender looked like she very much wished that Hermione and Parvati hadn't left early for the ball; Lavender could probably see the battle that she would have to wage alone. Ginny was already inching towards her bed when Lavender seized her hand. Ginny was forcibly frogmarched back to the vanity. Lavender pushed her roughly into the chair.

"I promised to do your hair and make-up," she announced, "and I intend to keep my word."

Ginny coughed. "That's really not-"

"Shut-up, Weasley."

A powder brush smacked her in the face, and Ginny tasted something chalky. She squeezed her eyes shut, her grip tightening on the arms of her chair. Lavender was laughing and saying something reassuring. Ginny was hardly listening. She braced herself as something gooey was applied to her eyes and lashes.

"What are you doing to my face?" she moaned.

"Making you gorgeous." Lavender sounded smug. "Not that you aren't already."

Ginny rolled her eyes; she had a feeling that the latter part had been an afterthought. There was the rustle of a bag, and then something was applied to her lips. The gel was surprisingly soothing, and her skin tingled as the raw and chapped skin was replaced by smooth, supple lip. Another gloss was added over top. Ginny risked opening her eyes as Lavender began on her hair.

"Thank-you," she said.

If anything, Lavender's smirk grew. "Draco should be the one thanking me." And then, after an awkward pause. "If you two are still going to the ball together, that is."

"We are." Ginny frowned. "I think."

Lavender added a product to her hair, and Ginny could smell something like flowers and vanilla. Her scalp felt suddenly cold as her curls relaxed. "If you need a dancing partner tonight-"

"I'm flattered," Ginny said, smirking. "I didn't know you felt that way, Lavender."

"I meant Cormac, you idiot!" Lavender complained, smacking her lightly on the head with a hairbrush. Her words were muffled through her mouthful of clips and pins. "He's not as good as Draco at dancing, but he's been improving and I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Ginny was oddly touched. Lavender was fiercely protective of Cormac, and even if she didn't say it, Ginny could tell that she was incredibly terrified of losing him. Despite her large talk, Lavender had never felt secure in her appearance. When Ginny borrowed her _WitchWeekly_ magazines, Lavender had always marked the sections with beauty tips and titles like "101 Ways to Shine."

"Thanks, Lavender," she said. "That means a lot."

"Just don't grow too attached to him," Lavender sighed, but she was smiling. Before Ginny could respond, Lavender wheeled her chair around so that Ginny was facing the mirror once more. "There. All done."

Ginny sucked in a breath. A stranger stared back at her. The girl had flawless skin; her eyes were kohl-rimmed, and the smoky eyeshadow made her green eyes look especially bright. Her hair fell down her back in long, silky red ringlets. Ginny blinked. The girl blinked too.

"Well?" Lavender prompted. "What do you think?"

"What in Merlin's name...?" Ginny reached out a hand, touching the glass surface lightly. The girl on the other side of the mirror copied her movement. "How is that possible?"

"I accept sweets as payment," Lavender announced.

She was clearly trying hard not to laugh. Tearing her eyes away from her reflection, Ginny swiveled around in her chair. She grinned, launching herself at Lavender. For the third time that evening, Ginny realized exactly how much Lavender meant to her, and she grinned at her friend.

"Thank-you," she repeated.

"Just don't forget the heels." Lavender disentangled herself and winked. "You're going to give Draco a heart attack, Weasley."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Please review! What did you think of the **kiss**?


	23. The Ball

_Author's Note: _Sorry for the long delay! Hopefully, this lengthy chapter makes up for it. This is one of the last chapters before the epilogue, so we're almost at the end! I'm both anticipating and dreading it... In the mean time, enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Three<strong>

_"Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world." - Voltaire_

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><p>Ginny surveyed the crowd below. A knot of students stood at the bottom of the stairs, mingling in front of the doors that led to the Great Hall. Girls were dressed in gowns that rippled like water when they turned. A brunette Ravenclaw had clipped real butterflies in her hair and Ginny watched, torn between fascination and disgust, as the creature fluttered its wings. Several students clutched goblets of pumpkin juice; judging by the flush of their faces, Ginny strongly suspected that something alcoholic had been mixed in as well.<p>

Luna nudged her in the ribs. "Do you see them yet?"

"No." And then, under her breath, "Thank Merlin."

Luna rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Gin. You're acting like Voldemort is taking you to the ball."

Ginny's already frayed nerves snapped at the name, and she flinched. It was an ingrained habit from years of fear. Her hands had wrapped around the banister, and her knuckles were a chalky white. Gently, Luna pried her fingers one-by-one from the wood.

"Sorry," Ginny muttered. "I'm just-"

"Nervous?"

"I don't wear heels." Ginny glanced down at where her feet were balancing precariously on thin twigs. "What do you reckon my chances are of falling down the stairs?"

Luna grinned. "I'll cause a distraction if you do."

"Thanks."

The two girls stood in silence for a moment, contemplating the crowd below them. Luna's elbow was resting on the bannister, and she had propped her chin on her hand. Ginny smiled, an odd feeling of pride overcoming her; Luna looked gorgeous tonight. In the candlelight, she was painted in gold: golden hair, golden dress, golden skin. She had certainly done a lot of growing up when Ginny wasn't looking. Blaise was going to have a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

A thought occurred to her. "You never told me what Blaise got you for your birthday."

"Oh." Luna shifted uncomfortably. "He got me a... _huzinthcoury_."

Ginny cupped an ear. "Pardon?"

"A house." Luna had gone a brilliant red. "In the country."

"He got you a...?" Ginny gaped at her. "Blaise bought you a house?"

Her voice had risen to a shout, and Luna made a flapping motion, her eyes darting around frantically. Ginny immediately shut her mouth; Luna probably didn't want the whole school to know that she and Blaise were shacking up. Several students had glanced up, searching for the source of the ruckus. Ginny began pulling Luna down the stairs, intending to search for somewhere private to speak.

"Merlin," she breathed. "Did Blaise - was that a proposal?"

"What?" Luna looked aghast. "No!"

"Well, you know that Blaise has to ask you eventually."

"Ginny-"

"I'm just saying!"

"Ginny!" Luna hissed. "_Shut-up_."

Her eyes were darting nervously to where two figures stood at the bottom of the staircase, just out of hearing range. Ginny's heartbeat quickened. Her nails dug into Luna's forearm, making crescent imprints in her skin, and Luna squeezed back. Her eyes were on Blaise; he was waiting patiently at the bottom of the staircase, cutting an elegant figure in bottle green dress robes.

But it was his companion that captured Ginny's attention.

Draco was wearing dark robes that made his grey eyes look like smoke. His blond hair was messy, untamed, and Ginny felt her heart squeeze painfully. He knew that she preferred it that way. His eyes were burning a hole through her, and heat surged through her body, pooling in her cheeks. She stumbled on a step, and Luna's grip tightened.

"Easy, Gin," she instructed. "I don't want to scrape bits of you off of the floor."

Ginny elbowed Luna in the stomach, but she concentrated more carefully on where she was placing her feet. It was a relief when her feet touched level ground once more. The girls made their way to where Blaise and Draco stood, their hands clasped respectfully in front of them. Each boy wore cuff-links decorated with silver snakes.

"Not too shabby, Malfoy," she said lightly.

To her surprise, Draco didn't smile. His eyebrows were slightly raised and his lips were parted. "Holy shit, Gin." His eyes trailed down her body, resting on her chest. "Is that you?"'

"Oi!" She jabbed him in the ribs. "Eyes on my face, you git."

"I would apologize," he said, grinning now, "but I'm not sorry."

His words, meant as a joke, reminded Ginny of the awkwardness between them, and she pursed her lips. Draco seemed to realize too late what he had said. They stared at one another, both uncharacteristically uncertain. Ginny crossed her arms over her chest. It was a reflex, learned from years of having to put up with her brothers hiding spiders in her bed and stealing her slice of pie. Ginny knew how to argue.

"You owe me an explanation," she reminded him. "Tonight."

He nodded. "I know."

"I won't forget." Ginny pursed her lips. "You won't distract me."

Draco laughed softly. Somehow, his lips had found her ear, and his breath was hot against her neck. "If anything, you're the distracting one."

Ginny shivered. Her legs felt suddenly wobbly, and for a moment, she forgot how to speak. He smelled like mint and chocolate and it was driving her crazy. A smirk was hovering about Draco's lips. Ginny wanted to wipe it off of his face. She imagined reaching up and pulling his head down to her's, fitting her mouth against his, and breathing him in-

"Oi!" Blaise sounded amused. "You two!"

His voice was like being doused in ice water, and Ginny took a large step backwards, stumbling slightly in her heels. Draco's face was carefully blank again as he turned towards their friends. "What?"

"The doors are open." Blaise wiggled his eyebrows. "Thought you might have been too busy to notice."

Ginny sighed. He was right; she hadn't. But neither, she realized, had Draco.

* * *

><p>The Great Hall had been transformed into a forest. Grassy turf gave way beneath Ginny's footsteps, and trees with twinkling silver fairy lights bordered a dance floor. A sunken fire pit in the farthest corner illuminated students' faces in burning gold and fierce red. A popular band stood on a stone slab, occasionally calling out for requests. Draco blinked.<p>

"Merlin, did we enter the forbidden forest?" he asked, bemused. "At night?"

"You don't like it?"

"Do you?"

"Yeah," Ginny decided, shrugging. "It feels... right."

And it did. She thought of the Yule Ball and its ice statues and crisp tablecloths. The ball had certainly been elegant and lovely, but it had felt stiff, like a sheet of white card stock. These decorations were the personification of Hogwarts, and Ginny could feel her shoulders relaxing. Gingerly, she stepped out of her heels, careful not to lose her balance. The grass was cool and spongy beneath her bare feet.

"Anyways," she said, "how do you know what the forbidden forest looks like?"

"I've been there."

"You're a prefect," Ginny reminded him, and Draco smirked.

"What's your point?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. She opened her mouth to respond when Luna tapped her on the shoulder, murmuring something about finding drinks. Ginny nodded, waving her off distractedly. Blaise had already joined Pansy and Neville by the fire, and he was talking animatedly with his hands. Hermione was standing a few feet away, patiently teaching Charlie a basic two-step. Her red dress was a beacon in the dim room. Fred, Angelina, George and Katie were performing a bizarre group dance in the middle of the clearing.

Belatedly, a thought occurred to her. "You're not expecting me to dance with you, right?"

"I might be." Draco was watching her carefully, the corners of his lips quirked upwards. The light from the fire carved hollows beneath his cheekbones and at his temples. "Would you say no?"

"Yes."

"You would say yes?"

"What?" Ginny shook her head. "No."

"You wouldn't say no, then."

Ginny growled, scowling. She knew what he was trying to do. With a huff, she twisted away from him, staring towards the refreshments. Draco must have realized that she had every intention of leaving because he wrapped an arm around her waist. Ginny found her face pressed against his chest. She could hear the steady beating of his heart, and her arms locked instinctively around his neck.

"What are we doing?" she whispered.

His grey eyes were melted snow. "We're dancing."

That hadn't been what Ginny had meant, and she had a feeling that Draco knew it. A slow number began to drift softly over the woods, a harmony of flutes and pipes, and Ginny felt her body relax. She would leave it alone, for now. If this proved to be their last peaceful moment together, then Ginny wanted it to remain untarnished. She allowed herself to be lulled into the easy rhythm of dancing, her heavy head falling into the crook of Draco's shoulder.

* * *

><p>One of Ginny's greatest faults was her persistent stubbornness. Her father had fondly named each grey hair after an incident from her childhood: the time she transfigured the backyard into a pond because she had wanted a pet turtle, or her attempt to build a broom out of knitting needles because her parents couldn't afford to buy her one. Ginny Weasley was an expert at achieving her goals, and now was no exception.<p>

"You know," she said, "I was thinking-"

"How unusual," Draco remarked.

"Prat." Ginny turned in the circle of his arms, looking towards the steps that led to the garden. Fairy lights illuminated the pathway, a string of stars leading into the darkness. "Anyways, I was thinking that we could take a walk." She leaned back, offering him a dazzling smile. "Now."

Draco looked skeptical. "At midnight?"

"Yes."

"Beside the Forbidden Forest?"

"Likely."

He sighed, guiding her through a twirl. Ginny stumbled a little at the unexpected motion, her heel catching on the tile floor, and Draco caught her gracefully. His fingers were warm on her back. "And what would you like to do outside at midnight?"

Ginny thought for a moment. "Night flying. I've never been before."

"Right." Draco smirked. "And you have your broom here, I suppose?"

He was definitely humoring her. Night flying was exhilarating but dangerous, and it wasn't something that you did on a whim. If you didn't plan, things went wrong; last year, a Hufflepuff had drank too much firewhiskey and landed in the black lake. Nobody had attempted it since. Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"We can break into the storage shed," she explained. "Hooch keeps the extra brooms there. That is, if you don't mind using the ancient Cleansweeps."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. She could tell that Draco hadn't missed the challenge in her voice; his grey eyes were narrow, and they had stopped dancing, standing at the edge of the pavilion. Girls in colorful skirts twirled by them, and Ginny was reminded oddly of umbrellas, spinning under a sea of rain. Draco smiled, slow and lazy.

"Lead the way, Weasley."

He trailed her to the door, and Ginny released a breath as the pair stepped into the cool night air. The moonlight colored the grass in metallic silver. The world was quiet and still, save for their staggered breathing. And her feet, Ginny noted sourly. Draco was like a bloody panther: silent and graceful. She glared accusingly at where his feet were ghosting over the lawn.

"Another Malfoy talent?"

His teeth were white in the darkness. "I make a habit of being the best."

"Really?" Ginny quirked an eyebrow. "Ever raced anyone, Draco?"

"You want to race me?" he surmised, and he sounded amused. "Right now. In the dark, while wearing a ball gown and high heels."

"Sure." Ginny shrugged. "First one to the broom shed. Go."

In one smooth motion, Ginny kicked off her heels, sprinting for the broom shed. The grass was soft and damp beneath her bare feet. Draco was cursing behind her, and Ginny could hear his quiet tread beating in time with her heart. Her red hair flew out behind her like a banner, proclaiming her victory, and the wind was cold on her scalp and face. Ginny laughed aloud, lost in the pure sensation of running.

Draco was closing in on her. His grey eyes were silver coins in the darkness, and his breath was coming hard and fast. The broom shed was less than twenty meters away. Ginny gritted her teeth. Her lungs were burning and her leg had cramped, but she pushed herself harder. Draco had longer legs than she did; Ginny had to take two strides for every one of his.

The two students barreled towards the finish line, their muscles pulled taught. Ginny let out a whoop as her hand slammed into the shed. There was a thump as Draco's followed a moment too late. He swore viciously, and Ginny wheezed a laugh, doubled over to catch her breath.

"Not... bad," she panted.

"That's it?" Draco was sucking in gasps of air. "Merlin, I collapsed a lung for you, Weasley."

"Should have... collapsed both." She laughed again at his expression. "You lost."

"Barely."

"Don't be embarrassed." Ginny straightened, smoothing down her hair. Hot blood had pooled in her cheeks, and she could feel the warmth surging into her fingers and toes. "I've never raced anyone that could challenge me."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I've never had someone beat me."

"It's a night of firsts, then."

They lapsed into silence as Ginny ran her hand along the side of the broom shed, searching for the door. The shed was solitary in the starlight, a forgotten shack, and the roof sloped just a little too far to the left. It looked like a lopsided birdhouse. Her hand grasped the door hinge. Triumphant, Ginny pulled out her wand.

"_Alohamora_," she muttered.

The door sprang open easily under her touch, and Ginny stumbled a little. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Quidditch gear was thrown haphazardly in a large bin, and bludgers were chained to the wall. A quaffle stood on the stand in the middle. Ginny noted a pair of beat-up brooms near the back of the shed, and she darted forward to seize the nicer-looking one.

"Mine," she announced.

Draco shook his head. "I thought Slytherin's were the greedy ones."

"You're mistaking Gryffindor courage for Hufflepuff kindness," Ginny informed him. She ran her hands over the handle of the broom: leather, good grip. She grinned in anticipation. "It's a common error."

Draco was inspecting the other broom. Judging by his expression, it was not up to his standards, and Ginny could see why; the wood was scratched and worn, and a sizable chunk of the tail was missing. Still, Draco accepted its faults surprisingly well, cradling the broom as carefully as if it were his own Nimbus 2001.

Ginny grinned. "Race me?"

"What do you-?"

Ginny mounted her broom, shooting into the sky. The broom rocketed from the ground, and the stars tilted crazily, blurring into golden dust. She could feel Draco's eyes on her as she circled the pitch, weaving in and out of the goal posts. The night breeze ruffled her hair. Her cheeks ached from smiling, and she came to rest in the centre of the pitch, about twenty feet off the ground.

"Cheater," Draco muttered lightly.

"You just have slow reflexes."

"You never specified where we were racing to," he pointed out.

Ginny shrugged. "I didn't want you to get confused and fall off your broom."

She tipped her head back, staring up at the sky. A thousand stars dotted the sky, knitted together in an intricate patchwork. She traced the constellations with her eyes; her father, an avid collector of muggle myths, had told her stories of Andromeda, Leo, and Hercules. It took Ginny a moment to realize that Draco was no longer looking at the stars. His grey eyes were trained on her, and Ginny felt her heartbeat quicken.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The last time we were both up here," he said, "you really did fall."

It took Ginny a moment to understand; the last time they had both been flying, Draco had knocked her off of her broom. Ginny grimaced. "It's okay. I don't care anymore."

"You should."

"I don't." She was growing frustrated. "I forgive you."

"Why?"

"I just do!"

"Don't you see, Ginny?" His eyes were grey flint: hard and unyielding. "This is exactly the problem. _Why_? Why do you forgive me?" There was a heavy silence. Ginny bit her lip, taken aback by his sudden behavior, and Draco laughed bitterly. "That's what I thought."

"So, what?" Ginny demanded. "You want me to hate you forever? Is that it?"

"No." Draco's voice was short. "But you should. You forgive me for no reason, give me second chances with blind faith, and-" He broke off, shaking his head. "Merlin, Gin, you're too bloody _nice_. I'm terrified that I'm going to ruin you."

"You're daft, Malfoy." Ginny's voice sounded tinny in her ears. She thought that she might be laughing a little, incredulous. "You're absolutely mad. I'm not made of glass."

"That's not what I..." Draco made a frustrated sound, running a hand through his hair. His eyes were wild and haunted, grey ashes that were setting her on fire. "I know you're not."

"I don't care who your father was," Ginny told him testily, her voice rising. "I don't care that your last name is Malfoy. I care about _you_, you idiot! I care that you can make me laugh, and make me think, and make me feel like..."

"Like what?"

"Like flying."

They stared at one another for a moment. Ginny's heart was beating fast, and her grip on her broom was unsteady. Draco's mouth was parted. His tie was loose, hanging around his neck. The sleeves of his collared shirt had been pushed up, and Ginny could see the swell of muscle beneath. His eyes searched Ginny's own.

"Ginny, I..." He looked lost. "I think that I love you. I loved you before I knocked you from that broom, and I've loved you more every day since." His words exploded in her head like fireworks, bright and colorful. His gaze was unflinching under hers. "I really am sorry. Merlin, I'm sorry for all of it: pushing you off your broom, avoiding you, being a right prat in general-"

Ginny kissed him.

Draco stiffened in surprise, and just like their last kiss, Ginny was momentarily frightened that he wasn't going to reciprocate. His body relaxed, his mouth softening. Their brooms were pressed together, parallel lines, and Draco's arms were fitted around her waist. He tasted like mint. She laughed a little against his mouth; this was one race that he was winning. When he pulled back, Ginny's cheeks were flushed.

"You kiss like you play quidditch," she informed him.

He raised an eyebrow. "And how's that?"

"With spirit," she said cheekily.

Draco kissed her again, and Ginny closed her eyes, stars imprinted on her eyelids.


	24. Closures and Beginnings

_Author's Note: _Hello, everybody! I realize that this chapter took a long time to publish, mostly because I had a lot to think about. Many of you expressed a strong desire for me to **continue the story**, and I did consider doing so for a while, but ultimately I feel that this is the end of Ginny and Draco's story. If I kept going, I think that it wouldn't add anything more than extra chapters, and that would be _unfair to you_. That being said, I did my best to wrap things up nicely. If you have any comments, please leave your thoughts in the review section!

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><p><strong>Epilogue: I<strong>

_"There is no real ending. It's just the place where you stop the story." -Frank Herbert_

* * *

><p>"What in Merlin's name is this?" Ginny demanded.<p>

Draco lifted his eyes from the breakfast table. Ginny was examining an omelette with caviar, poking at the black eggs experimentally. She appeared to be holding her breath, as if they might attack her. Draco repressed a snort. Her brothers must regularly charm her breakfast to explode if she was that suspicious.

"It's caviar." Across the table, Narcissa's face was pinched. "Fish eggs."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "I know what caviar is."

"I don't see how," Narcissa said cooly, "as I expect you've never had it before."

Draco watched the exchange with mounting dread. Ginny had arrived yesterday at the Manor for all of July, and the atmosphere had been filled with veiled hostility. He continued to shovel eggs into his mouth at a feverish pace, ignoring his mother's stern look. Both of them knew that Draco instinctively ate with careful manners, but given that Ginny was eating with her salad fork instead of her fork for her main course, Draco decided that it was impolite to be polite. He didn't want to look pretentious.

"So." Draco cleared his throat. "What do you think of the Manor, Gin?"

"It's big."

Draco hid a smile. "That's all?"

"You have peacocks," she added. "They're albino."

"So the Manor's big and has pretentious, albino animals."

"No need to insult yourself, Malfoy." Ginny took a bite of her caviar. "You're not quite albino yet."

Draco spewed tea across the table, and his lungs seized as he coughed. Narcissa inhaled sharply, setting down her delicate silver spoon on her saucer. His mother's lips were pursed. She had torn her croissant into miniature pieces, and the pastry was a pile of white shavings on her plate. Draco, recovered from his coughing fit, grinned.

"I'd rather be albino than freckled, Weasley."

"Touché." Ginny rubbed her nose ruefully, as if she could erase the prominent flecks with her hand. "They'll multiply in August."

"Just like your family," Narcissa quipped.

"I suppose so." Ginny's voice was too cheerful, and Draco cringed. He knew her well enough to guess when she was about to lose her temper. "But I love all of them. I'd do anything for my family; we're bound by blood."

"Tainted blood," Narcissa said pleasantly. "With mudbloods and betrayal."

There was a pause as Ginny chewed her omelette. Her face was the picture of serenity, but Draco could see the way her hands shook as she dabbed her mouth with a napkin. He held his breath. A small part of him was relieved; it was better to get the explosion over with now. The Manor had only seen small squabbles before, and Ginny, he thought fondly, was a hurricane.

"Has Draco ever told you about my family?" she asked loudly.

Narcissa's lip curled. "Unfortunately."

"Then you'll know that there's a lot of us." Ginny quirked a challenging eyebrow. "Weasley women are very fertile, you see. And one day, I'll have nine children. They'll all have red hair and freckles. I'll discourage all table manners, and we will never use words like mudblood. Is that clear?"

Narcissa's eyes were sapphires: hard blue stone. "Your children will carry the Malfoy name."

"But they will be _my_ children," Ginny snapped. "My and Draco's children. And we will raise them as we like. Now," she said, rising from the table, "if you'll excuse me."

She balled her napkin, throwing it on to her plate. There was the slamming of a door. Through the large dining room window, Draco could see Ginny stomping through the garden. Her hair was escaping its hold, and red tendrils curled around her face. Her jeans were ripped and cuffed at the ankle, and she wore an oversized shirt decorated with snitches. He watched as she paused at a pond, considered a stone, and then skipped it across the pond. Draco counted eight ripples. His heart swelled.

"Well?" he asked. "What do you think of her?"

"She's rude," Narcissa responded curtly. "She's stubborn, reckless, and her hair is in drastic need of a Sleekeazy potion. Ginevra doesn't know her salad fork from her dessert fork. And," she continued briskly, "she irritates me."

Draco observed his mother for a moment. She was cutting her sausage into even circles, and her movements were concentrated and deliberate. She wasn't looking at Draco. There was a small smile playing about her lips. Narcissa's blonde hair was greying, but she looked much younger than Draco remembered, and it hit him all at once.

"You like Ginny, don't you?" he asked, surprised.

"Oh, yes." Narcissa smiled. "I love her."

"You should tell her that."

"Certainly not." Narcissa took a calm bite of her sausage. "Lucius' mother didn't make it easy for me; the girl has to work for it a little. Now, darling," she said, "pass me a fresh croissant, would you? Being intimidating is exhausting. I'm famished."

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue: II<strong>

_"Weddings are never about the bride and groom, weddings are public platforms for dysfunctional families." -Lisa Kleypas  
><em>

* * *

><p>Ginny sat near at the bathroom window of the Burrow, wrapped in a fluffy white robe. Her red hair was damp, and she methodically dried each strand with her wand, curling it at the end. Outside, the hot August sun baked the longer grass brown. Bill was arguing with Charlie as the two men levitated chairs across the lawn; white fold-up seats adorned with silk bows floated into rows of six. There was a sharp rap on the bathroom door, and Ginny half-turned in the direction of the noise.<p>

"Merlin, Gin." Ron's voice was muffled. "Are you ever coming out of that bathroom?"

Ginny pointedly ignored him. She leaned closer to the hand mirror propped up on the window sill, applying a shine charm carefully to her hair. Ron knocked again, more persistently this time, and Ginny jumped. Her hand slipped, and the skin on her neck began to glisten.

"Really, Ron," she growled, attempting to fix her mistake. "It takes a while for a girl to be ready. Go play with Hannah or something."

Ron gave an exasperated sigh. There was a soft thump as he slumped wearily against the door, his back sliding down the barrier between them. "I can't," he complained. "She's coming with Padma, Harry, and Parvati later."

Ginny nudged the door open a crack, causing Ron to yelp and scramble across the small corridor. He threw a hand over his head to cover his eyes. Ginny glared reproachfully at her brother. "Oh, honestly, Ron. I'm decent." She pushed the door open further. "What about Hermione? Go and bother her."

"And find her with Charlie's tongue down her throat?" Ron's face twisted into a horrified expression. "No thanks. I can do without that image permanently burned into my mind." Ginny crossed into the hall. Ron trailed pathetically behind her, trailing her through the house. "What am I supposed to do with myself? Everyone's busy. Merlin, I even asked mum if she wanted to have tea with me."

Ginny hid a smile. "And?"

"She told me to sod off." Ron shook his head morosely. "My own mother. She'd rather decorate than spend time with her son."

They had reached Ginny's bedroom, and she paused, her hand on the doorknob. "There is a wedding happening in an hour," she reminded him. "Decorations are sort of required."

Ron snorted. "Fred would prefer exploding ones."

"Sounds hazardous." Ginny slipped inside her room. "Wait out here."

Ron looked chagrined as she shut the door, leaving him outside again. She hastily dug through her piles of clothes. Where had she put her dress? She hoped that she hadn't left it at the Manor. Narcissa had wanted to approve the color before she wore it. Apparently, only certain shades of red were appropriate for a wedding. Narcissa had charmed the dress wine, whatever that meant.

"Ron," she called, "do you know what wine is?"

"Oh, Merlin," he groaned. "All too well. I think I'm still a little drunk from the bachelor party last night."

"No, I meant the color. Narcissa charmed my-"

She broke off with a triumphant cry, unearthing a pleated dress. Coincidentally (or perhaps not), it looked like a wine glass; the bottom was slim like the stalk of the glass, and the top flared at the bust. Ginny wiggled into it, shimmying the dress over her hips. She started on the nude heels next.

"Narcissa?" Ron demanded. "As in Malfoy?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes. You know that I spent July with them, Ronald."

"I thought you hated her."

"We've reached an understanding," Ginny explained. She opened the door with a wave of her wand, and Ron stood in the doorway, scowling. "She's coming today."

"And Malfoy?" Ron flopped down on her bed. "Is he still attending?"

There was a small shred of hope in his voice, as if Draco could have been eaten by wild hippogriffs and Ginny had simply forgot to mention it. She frowned at her brother. "Yes. And it's Draco," she reminded him. "Not Malfoy. Honestly, Ron, you could at least try to be civil."

"Not until he does."

Ron set his chin stubbornly, a characteristic gesture that he had picked up from their mother. Ginny was reminded of their childhood; Ron was always the stubborn one when they had a row. Ginny had sacrificed her pride many times over the years. Once, when she had locked him in the broom shed with spiders, it had taken a whole week of biscuits, sickles, and pleading to bring him round.

"Fine," she sighed, wiggling her foot into her shoe. "Hate each other forever, then. But as long as I'm around, the two of you are stuck with one another."

Ron was just beginning to retaliate when the door flew open with a bang. Luna rushed into the bedroom, shutting the door quickly. The sound of high-pitched screaming from farther down the hall became muffled. Ginny gave her friend an alarmed look.

"Is that Angelina?"

"No." Luna was out of breath. "Well, yes, but don't go out there," she ordered, stepping protectively in front of the door. "Trust me. It's not safe."

Ginny sized up the situation. She could probably dodge Luna and make it out the doorway if she tried; the question was whether Luna could catch her before she reached Angelina. "Why not?"

"She's turned into a monster." Luna's cheeks and eyes were bright. "She's hysterical. Something about her dress being in tatters after traveling. Don't worry," she added, crossing the room to plop down on Ginny's bed next to Ron. "I left her with Katie and Lavender."

"Brave of you," Ginny snorted.

Luna waved her off. "I was more of a bother than a help, I think."

Her friend was dressed in a bright orange dress that matched the color of Ron's Chudley Cannon posters, and her blonde hair was braided away from her face. The skirt of the dress billowed from her hips. She looked like a carrot cupcake. Ginny finished securing her shoes with a final tug.

"Have you seen Fred at all?" she asked Luna. "I meant to check on him."

"He's fine," Luna assured her. "More calm than I've ever seen him, actually. He and George were slingshotting gnomes in the garden."

Ginny was surprised that there were any gnomes left to slingshot, and she and Ron exchanged a look. Yesterday, their mother made them clear the infestation of gnomes from the hedges. It had taken hours. Ginny burnt herself on her nose, and Molly had promptly panicked and declared that she had ruined the wedding photos. Luckily, Hermione had saved the day by bringing over a healing salve.

"Where's Blaise?" Ginny asked. "Is he here yet?"

Luna nodded. "He's just arrived with Draco."

Ron groaned loudly, and Luna laughed. Ginny was on her feet instantly, racing out of the bedroom. Luna's laughter was cut off as she took the stairs two at a time, almost tripping in her heels. She shielded her eyes as she emerged into the garden. The sky was an azure blue, and a few wispy clouds straggled across the blank canvas of the world. A warm summer breeze ruffled her hair.

Ginny spotted the two Slytherins loitering near the altar. The sunlight turned Draco's blond hair to gold, and he cut a sharp figure in a black suit. He was laughing at something Blaise said, and her heart swelled. He was beautiful, and he was hers. Ginny raced towards them, throwing herself at Draco. He caught her easily, offering her a surprised smirk.

"Restrained as ever," he commented dryly.

"Subtlety was never my strong suit."

Ginny exchanged a brief greeting with Blaise before Draco steered them away, leaving Blaise to seek out Luna. A crowd had begun to mingle around the altar, waiting for their cue to be seated. Fred had disappeared from the garden. Ginny noticed that Lavender stood near the refreshments, which meant that the crisis must have been averted.

"You know," she said, "you're going into seventh year in September."

Draco grinned. "A brilliant deduction, Weasley."

"Oi!" Ginny elbowed him in the ribs. "I'm being serious. You're going to be busy."

"And you won't?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "I heard that Flitwick has agreed to let you start an apprenticeship as a Healer."

Ginny stopped, shocked. "Who told you that?"

Draco shrugged helplessly, his eyes wandering to where Molly and Narcissa stood near the flowerbeds, chatting amiably. Ginny groaned. The two women had become fast friends this summer, and it was impossible to tell one something without the other hearing about it. She screwed up her face.

"I should have guessed."

"You're too modest, Gin," he informed her, squeezing her waist. "You'd be the youngest in the program."

"I haven't got in yet."

"You will," he said confidently. "And you'll be the best in the program, too."

"Draco!"

"What?"

His eyes glittered mischievously, and she sighed, but didn't say anything more. They took seats in the front row, directly in front of the aisle. The crowd had assembled now, waiting for the bride's arrival. Ginny saw Katie hurriedly pulling on her heels. Fred and Angelina had decided to have only one best man and bridesmaid, and they had decided upon Katie and George. The twins stood side-by-side at the front, their hands folded in front of them. They were both grinning ear-to-ear.

"We're both going to be busy next year," Ginny said. "Between your N.E.W.T.'s and my training..."

"Gin." Draco looked incredulous. "Don't you see?"

"What?"

"It doesn't matter." He looked confident, assured, and he squeezed her hand. "I'll find a way to see you, even if it means flying through your window at odd hours. Or trekking through the forbidden forest at night. Or, Merlin forbid, going through one of your brothers..."

"They're not that bad," Ginny sighed, but she was smiling. "I suspect that they all actually like you. Well, maybe not Ron," she confessed, "but I'll work on him."

"I don't doubt it."

"Maybe we could come to the Manor for lunch." Ginny sat up straighter, suddenly inspired. Her mind began to turn. "We could bring Hannah. And maybe Hermione..."

"Granger?" Draco looked horrified. "You're not serious?"

"Oh, I am." Ginny kissed him innocently on the cheek. "How's next Saturday for you?"

"Your brother doesn't know his water glass from his wine glass!"

"Neither do I," she reminded him, "and you love me anyways."

There was a note of smugness in her voice, and Draco looked torn between fondness and exasperation. He was saved from responding by a swell in the music. Ginny swiveled in her chair. Angelina looked radiant in a simple white and gold gown, which fell to her feet in a waterfall of silk. Up at the front, Fred had a goofy grin on his face, and Ginny couldn't help but smile too.

"With how eager our mothers are," Draco murmured, "this could be us, soon."

Ginny turned to look at him. His eyes were a striking combination of green and grey, and she felt her stomach hollow pleasantly, like the breath had been stolen from it. The music faded to a soft violin. It was incredible, she thought, that she still reacted to him this way. Even weeks, months later, Ginny still couldn't quite believe that he looked at her that way. Draco Malfoy.

She squeezed his hand. Once. Twice.

"I know it will be," she said.

* * *

><p>Please leave a final <strong>review! <strong>Who was your favorite character? What was your favorite moment? Was there anything that you disliked? Please let me know! It will greatly improve my writing in the future.

And if you have any requests for **character pairings **that you would like me to write, please let me know!


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